


And They Don't Stop Coming

by CascadingMarinara



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Battle, Eventual Romance, F/F, Gotta Go Fast, Hedgehogs, Humor, Lesbians in Space, Light-Hearted, Lightsabers, M/M, Multiverse, Other, Outer Space, Platonic Relationships, Running, Space Opera, Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 103,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CascadingMarinara/pseuds/CascadingMarinara
Summary: The multiverse can be a cruel place when you’re a small, blue creature with a near-fetishistic obsession for chili dogs. At least, it is for Sonic the Hedgehog. After a terrible accident bonds Sonic to a multidimensional travel device known as “The All Star”, the adorable speed demon is torn from the only home he’s ever known and the people the mean the most him, thrown across a host of alien realities as he searches for the divine singularity that can get him back to the Earth he knows. But that journey is almost at its end. After years of dogged travel, Sonic has made it to the dimension which he believes will hold his salvation, where the singularity waits for him. And it just so happens that this universe is the same one where the Star Wars series takes place! Now he’ll have to navigate new relationships with Rey and the Rebel forces, as well as face off against the deadly might of the First Order.





	1. Sonic Forces

“No copyright law in the universe is gonna stop me!”  
\--Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic Colors

Light engulfed his vision, timespace collapsed around him, and after eight years hopping throughout the multiverse, Sonic the Hedgehog, age 23, knew he had reached the beginning of his journey’s end. Dizzy and nauseous, he clutched at the compact crystal imbedded in his hand from which radiated a dull but serious pain. Regaining his equilibrium, Sonic did what years of experience had taught him was most crucial at times such as this, and carefully scanned his surroundings for bystanders. No one responds well to a figure spontaneously appearing in front of them, especially so when that figure is a three foot tall, blue hedgehog; so Sonic was pleased to find that he had materialized in an empty plain covered by the shadows of dark clouds overhead, the only indication of sentient life being a medium sized city, just barely visible from where he stood.

The pain and discombobulation fading, Sonic found a certain serenity washing over him as he ambled along toward the distant city. Sure, this was another new world to acclimate to, but it would hopefully be the last one, and this start ranked fairly high as it compared to some of the less savory experiences he had had as a result of the initial materialization. In fact, Sonic felt much more affable than he had in a long while. Life hadn’t been so great as of late, and the prospect of finally being done with his horrid quest filled him with a vigor he could only recall from his early adolescence.

Once Sonic had dreamed of going on wild adventures fraught with danger, but now that he lived them, he found that such constant excitement really can wear a person down. And he had been worn down; quite so, if he was being honest with himself. He had lived a tumultuous eight years, an eight years that Sonic couldn’t deny had changed him deeply. He still possessed the preternatural swiftness so strongly associated with him, but the hot-headedness he used to consider an endearing trait had now ebbed out of him almost completely. Not that he had necessarily become the pensive type, but grief had imparted on him disposition favoring patience. He knew how fleeting joy could be, and long ago he had decided to enjoy those few quiet moments that could be eked out. Moments such as the one he was currently experiencing.

The air around him was cool with a level of humidity which was refreshing rather than sticky. Slight winds blew through his luxurious blue fur, tickling his skin. There didn’t seem to be many animals around, save for some oddly shaped birds which he noticed gliding in the area around the city, but for the terrain that wasn’t especially unusual. The grass was soft under his feet, and in that instance Sonic felt eased by the simplicity of his purpose, for at that time all that he needed to do was think and walk. There was no need to rush or run-- he could actually enjoy the moment. And why shouldn’t he? Presented with such a gift, it is only appropriate that one savor it to the fullest.

So Sonic continued to walk, and he continued to marinate in his thoughts until he reached the point where he was just far enough away from the city to not be seen. Sonic paused in order to muster himself to move forward. After traveling through so many dimension he had developed a complex of sorts.  
On his homeworld he was still an oddity in terms of appearance, but in every world he traveled to, Sonic felt his visage lurid in comparison to the local aesthetic.There had even been more than one occasion where he was mocked because of how he looked, which had resulted in numerous blows to his self-esteem. Now Sonic always became anxious before he made contact with the people of a new world. Moreover, the process of dimension jumping stripped Sonic of his clothes for some reason (even, unfortunately, his favorite red shoes and white gloves), meaning that he was essentially nude. Luckily, as a result of his creation, Sonic possessed no actual reproductive organs (that’s right, there will be no sexualization of Sonic in this one. You are welcome), meaning that he didn’t run the risk of exposing himself, but it didn’t help make him feel any less vulnerable.

Sonic moved closer still to the city, now being able to make out distinct shapes and even people. To his surprise, Sonic found that he may not need to cover his appearance, after all. There were some “normal” humans, sure, but a large number of the figures he saw took strange shapes, stranger than he often encountered. To further compound his surprise noticed that there were ships taking off and flying through the planet’s atmosphere. Space travel tended to muddy the linear nature of his quest as it greatly expanded the search zone he would be working in. That could be dealt with later, however. Sonic’s most pressing concern at the moment was to move onto the first step of his usual procedure, that being to find a bar. Of all the possible locations a city contained, Sonic had learned that bars usually had the distinct benefit to them of providing nearly all of the relevant information required for him to become acclimated to his new environment. And among the possible offering of bars, dive bars were the ultimate distillation that served his purposes best. And as Sonic worked his way through the streets of the city (to his relief, receiving only a few sideways glances in the process), Sonic spotted what seemed like a choice dive bar indeed.

The Soused Sarlacc, said dive bar, was a rusted, semi-spherical metal building with no visible windows. The bar sign (consisting of only a plank with the name of the bar haphazardly painted on) as well as flashing rainbow lights surrounding the door, serving as the only decorative flair. Sonic let the noisy chatter of the bar’s patrons guide him down the street and through the rainbow wreathed door. Inside, peoples of varying appearance downed vibrantly coloured liquids at impressive speeds. A grim jubilation hung in the air, as if it was a place where one came to finally give up the pretension of self control. The air had an acrid aroma, and breathing it in, Sonic felt it could have even been somewhat alcoholic by itself.

He made his way across a floor so sticky it was nearly adhesive, and approached a human bartender who exuded the aura of a person whose career had permeated into every aspect of their life, eventually crystallizing them into the stereotype of their profession. Burly and relaxed in their attentiveness, the bartender had already begun casting quick glances in Sonic’s direction.

“I take it you’re new here? We have pretty much anything you could want in terms of drinks. Our food is also edible, in I’ve even heard it called ‘acceptable’ before”, the bartender said when Sonic finally made it up to the bar in the center of the room.

“Actually, I’m not looking for anything to drink at the moment. I’ve found myself stuck in the area and am in need of some quick cash; I thought this might be a good place to look. I understand this might be an imposition considering that I’m not a paying customer. I’ll leave if you want me to”, Sonic replied.

The bartender sighed and nodded her head. “I thought you didn’t have the look of a usual passerby when you first walked in”, she said looking at Sonic while continuing to serve other patrons around the bar, a feat that he found exceptionally impressive. “And don’t worry, you can stay. We have plenty of space in here and you don’t look like the type who’s likely to start any trouble. In fact, your in luck seeing as there’s a pair looking for people willing to get a little dirty for some credits”, she said pointing her thumb behind her shoulder over to a small crowd surrounding two cloaked figures in the back of the bar.

Sonic was slightly taken aback. “Oh, well thank you very much. If I end up getting work then this place will be the first place I spend my money at”, he said awkwardly.  
“Heh, no problem. You seem as if you’ve had a rough go of it lately and can’t hurt to help out a nice looking little fellow out every once and awhile”.  
“It sure can’t”, Sonic said before heading toward the crowd, thinking about what a incongruous personality the bartender had as he went. However he thought this further proves of the multifaceted effectiveness of dive bars. In every dimension jump that Sonic made, he had found dive bars to be the most diversely and consistently useful resource available. It was the sheer amount of raw possibility a dive bar represented that made them so incredibly useful.

Within a dive bar one could get in a fight, revealing what means of combat a dimension held. One could also scout out the prominence and shape of criminality within the region. Or, as in the current situation, Sonic could get a lead on a potential source of revenue from a surprisingly amiable bartender. And as such was the case, Sonic found his weary spirits lifted somewhat higher. As it stood, Sonic wouldn’t need to explain his bizarre appearance or placate the disgust it often evoked, which was fantastic. And he was possibly on the verge of remedying his impoverishment, an equally wonderful proposition. Yes, things were looking up for Sonic in his final jump (except for presence the space travel, of course. But that was a relatively minor issue in terms of psychological triage).  
As he came closer to the crowd, Sonic’s attention became increasingly focused on trying to extrapolate the nature of his new prospect from the information available. For starters, Sonic found that the small crowd consisted of mostly curious drunks as well as a few persons with a rough appearance and serious demeanor; said individual no doubt being those actually willing to carry out the job if they found the pay satisfactory.

The hooded figures who were no doubt the employers, were dressed as such that most of their facial features were concealed by their outfits. But there was enough left uncovered that Sonic could surmise that the pair consisted of two humans, likely male and female. The male figure was talking to a lanky humanoid with wrinkly pink skin, beady black eyes, and a perfectly circular mouth with rows of needle sharp teeth protruding from the lips in the same circle configuration as the mouth. The humanoid seemed to Sonic to be smiling, but he honestly couldn’t be sure.

Sonic caught a fragment of what the male figure was saying as he shouldered himself into the crowd, “...will require you to interfere with First Order operations, and will likely result in any future dealings with their organization to be problematic.”

“Don’t worry, my relations with the First Order is already of an antagonistic nature, so to speak. Plus they’ve always given me the creeps anyway”, the pink humanoid replied.  
The hooded figure nodded. “What kind of qualifications do you have”, he asked.

“I have good level of combat expertise and have previous experience with mercenary work.”

The figure turned to his female counterpart, “He seems to be telling the truth, moreover I’m getting the sense that he’ll fit in with our operation”, she said.

“You sure?”, he asked apprehensively.

She sighed, “fairly certain”. The male turned back to the pink alien and told him that, “it appears you’ve passed the test, Mangat. Wait here in the bar and when we’re done with the interviews you’ll briefed on the specifics”. The pink alien who Sonic now knew was named Mangat thanked the interviewers and went over the bar to get a drink. After Mangat, some more candidates were interviewed, some being rejected, and others were told to wait in the bar like Mangat. Sonic observed that toward the end of each interview, the male figure would consult with his female colleague, and that a good deal of the final decision appeared to rest on her judgement. Moreover, the cloaked woman seemed to be in intense concentration throughout each interview. Another candidate was rejected while Sonic considered this. He was then jolted out of his rumination by the voice of the male figure, “Alright… um… blue guy? You’re up”.

The people in front of him moved aside and Sonic tentatively went before the mysterious interviewers. “What sort of credentials do you have?”, the male asked.

Sonic made a conscious effort to straighten his back and relax his face before he answered, “I’m a veteran fighter, I’ve been in more than my fair share of conflicts. I’m quick too, real quick. Frankly I think you’d be hard pressed to find a more skilled fighter in this area than I”. Sonic knew he was overselling himself a bit, but he also knew that when it came to interviews-- especially interviews for mercenary work, gusto counted for a lot.

The male laughed, “those are strong words, but for now I think I’ll entertain you. So, I assume that you have no problems upsetting the First Order?”.  
“I don’t think so”.

Sonic’s interviewer tilted his head, “you sounded a little unsure about that”  
  


"Well, actually, I’m new in this part of space, so…”, Sonic coughed into his fist while slightly furrowing his brow, “I don’t really know who the First Order is”, he said blushing slightly. Quickly regaining his composure he added, “but that doesn’t bother me. It makes no difference who I have to face, I won’t shy from a battle”.  
The cloaked man seemed greatly amused, “You’re a very interesting fellow… I’m sorry, what was your name?”.

“Um… Sonic, sir”

“Okay Sonic, well firstly I’d like to say that you’re very lucky to have lived far away enough to not know what the First Order is. And secondly, just in case you do mind, the First Order is the remnants of an old fascist regime who’re bent on having the entire galaxy under their thumbs”, the man said, his voice taking on a more serious tone as when he started to talk about the First Order. “Now normally I would call your ignorance of such a powerful military entity suspicious, but seeing as we’re pretty close to the outskirts of the galaxy-- and considering the fact that I’ve never seen a species that looks quite like you-- I’m willing to accept your story”. Sonic smiled upon hearing this but then the man put up a finger as if to silence him. “That doesn’t mean you’re totally out of the woods, however. I have still yet to talk to my friend”, the man said then turning to the cloaked woman. This time instead of speaking out loud as she had before, though, the woman whispered into the ear of her colleague. The cloaked man who during most of his conversation with Sonic had seemed relaxed, even to be relishing the situation, now took on a very somber and listful appearance. Sonic also thought he caught the man glancing at the crystal embedded in his hand. “You’re very interesting indeed, Sonic”, he said, “you can go wait with the rest of the candidates who passed”.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The final total of accepted candidates including Sonic, was five. A few others passed the interview stage, but had left after being told the specifics of the job and the pay offered. Laying on the hill with who were now his four comrades in arms, Sonic wondered if it would have been a better decision for him to have had refused the job as well.

They were no doubt a ragtag group, and Sonic couldn’t help but notice that the First Order regiment in the valley below them were all outfitted with some sort of armor and that there were ten of them, plus the five more that his employers had told him would likely be inside the transport ship. Granted, the group had been told by their employers that they would seriously outnumbered, but actually seeing the size of the opposing force did weaken Sonic’s resolve a little. There was, however, no going back now. After talking with them at the bar while the interviews were still being conducted, Sonic had found that he actually liked his new colleagues a little. And the facts were that the group stood their best chance of survival with Sonic there to help them.

Sonic had developed a particular affection for Mangat, who had offered to take the group in his ship after they were told by their employers that they would not be receiving any means of transportation. Sonic found that Mangat had an odd charm about him, and seemed much nicer than his threatening teeth suggested he would be.  
Another member of the group, Tyr, a heavily scarred human with a seriously disproportioned mohawk (she had proudly told the group that she did her own hair; by the others reactions Sonic had determined that the disproportionate nature was not a conscious stylistic choice) turned to the others.

“So, what’s the plan?”, she said with a gruffness that Sonic found was more a quality of her voice, rather than being a matter of intended inflection. Terho, a bulky person who’s leathery skin had rock like protrusions coming out of it, spoke up. “Well, the stormtroopers outside and on sentry duty shouldn’t pose too great threat; we’ll be catching them unaware and at range”, he said.

“True, but we still have to deal with the stormtroopers inside the transport ship”, Nish added, taking an apparent effort to resist drowsiness long enough to form the words. A woman of short stature, Nish had earlier identified herself as being a native of Id’ele, explaining that she “didn’t want anyone to be worried about why she seemed so tired”. And Nish did, in fact, appear quite tired. Her eyes had large dark circles under them and her laboured breath came out slowly. Sonic did not know what the implications of being a native of Id’ele were, but the rest of the team seemed relieved after Nish spoke up, so he decide to not press the issue.

Terho sighed and folded his arms, “And considering capturing that ship is our main objective, we can’t simply destroy it from here. Quite a conundrum”.  
“That’s why we’ll have to divide up and strike simultaneously from range and at melee”, Nish said, her voice quiet, forming the words with a slowness that was somehow lulling. "Now, I specialize in close range combat, but I think it would be best to deal with the troopers inside the ship as quickly as possible; we don’t want to risk any collateral damage. That means that another one of you will have to come with me. Does anyone else have skill in close combat?”

Mangat looked expectantly at Tehro, who caught his gaze and shook his head, “I’m too big to move quickly”. Mangat nodded in understanding.  
Sonic cleared his throat, getting the attention of the team, “um… I think I could handle it”, he said nervously. Nish look over him and then made a thumbs up, “we’re all set then?”.

“Hold on”, Terho interjected, “are you going to have enough time to get to the ship while we neutralize the stormtroopers outside?”.

“That valley has some nice tall grass, plus it’s getting dark. We should have no trouble sneaking down there if you give us enough lead time”, Nish said. She turned to Sonic, “you don’t mind, do you?”

“That works for me”, he replied.

“And you three are going to be alright?”, Nish asked, addressing the impromptu ranged detachment. Tyr produced a long, scoped rifle from her pack. “I’m not concerned”, she said with a sincerity Sonic found unsettling.

 

Crawling through the grass, the cool night air blowing through his fur, a camp of enemy soldiers some twenty feet away from him, Sonic wondered what kind of cuisine this planet offered. He had not eaten since he arrived (though he had drunk a glass of water while he was waiting at the bar) and seriously began to worry that the rumbling from his stomach might give away his and Nish’s position. Besides his hunger, though, Sonic also worried about the morality of his current mission. Sure, his employer had described the First Order as being a fascist organization, but frankly he trusted his employer only slightly more than he did the First Order.

Then again, his new teammates did all accept the mission without debate, and despite the fact that they were mercenaries by trade, he found that he did trust them a little. More than he did his employer, at least. There really was something odd about that pair, he thought. Over the years Sonic had, by necessity as much as by desire, developed his intuition to the extent where he could get a decent read on a person within the first few minutes of meeting them. There were a couple of messy incidents in his first few jumps, born out of naivety on his part, that had instilled within Sonic the lesson of constant perceptiveness when it came to the people he considered dealing with.  
Sonic’s train of thought was derailed when he noticed that Nish had stopped ahead of him. She looked back, her face ever so faintly illuminated by the red moonlight. “You ready?”, she whispered. Sonic nodded in affirmation.  
T

hey had snuck passed the stormtroopers camp to their right and had made it the adjacent side of the ship. Earlier the team had decided that when Nish and Sonic had gotten into position, they would stand up to signal that the ranged group should commence their attack.

Quicky, silently, Nish and Sonic rose from their spot in the grass. A stormtrooper that was sitting facing the ship startled when the two figures suddenly appeared in front of them. But before they could even cry out, a red lance of energy raced across the valley and struck their skull. Two more laser beams, less powerful than the first, shot down and took out two of the sentries. The remaining stormtroopers scrambled for their weapons and began returning fire.

While the stormtroopers outside were occupied defending themselves from the rain of laser fire, Sonic and Nish seized the opportunity to sprint towards the door of the transport ship. It opened when they reached it, another stormtrooper emerging to combat the attackers. Gracefully, using no more energy than required, Nish took out a dagger the edges of which glowed blue, and slipped it into the unarmored neck of the stormtrooper. “You take the right”. Nish told Sonic, stepping over the collapsed body.

Sonic entered the ship, turned the corner, and was met with another two stormtroopers running towards him. Okay Sonic, just keep a cool head and you’ll be fine, he thought to himself. Weaponless, Sonic relied on the one skill he knew he could always count on-- or at least the one skill he had that worked in an enclosed space-- raw agility. Sonic jumped to the side, kicked off the side wall, and onto the shoulders of the stormtrooper closest to him. He then thrust his hands down, gripped the stormtrooper’s helmet, and twisted. Crack. A bit gruesome for Sonic’s tastes, but when you’re limited to killing someone with your bare fists, most of your options are really just different flavors of gruesome. The second trooper trained his blaster on Sonic, who dropped to the ground just before the trigger was pulled. The surviving stormtrooper took aim again, and in a blur of speed Sonic dodged out of the path of the laser beam. Before he could be shot on again, Sonic picked up the blaster dropped by his first victim, and with three shots used it to make a second.

Sonic turned around to see if there were any more living stormtroopers in the back of the ship. There were not. Sonic did however see Nish lying on the ground, putting pressure on a wound on her side. A small trail of blood was seeping through her fingers. “Shit. Nish, are you alright?”, Sonic shouted, rushing over to her.

“It’s okay, really”, she said, “I just need to get a wink of sleep”.

“What? Oh no, are you already suffering from blood loss?”

Nish yawned. “No, no, I just need to rest”, she said with a tint of amusement.  
Sonic was panicking. Of course he had already screwed up. He hadn’t been quick enough, and now one of the few people in this universe he had some trust in was probably dying. “I’m going to try and get you help, Nish, but you have to promise me you won’t fall asleep, okay?”, he said his voice heavy with fear. But it was too late, Nish had already closed her eyes. Sonic put his hands over the wound, trying to add extra pressure in order to stop the blood flow. “I need help over here! Nish is seriously wounded”, he cried out, desperately hoping one of his teammates had medical experience. Damnit! I can’t let this happen anymore, if I had just… Sonics thoughts were cut off as Nish began to snore. Sonic’s utter confusion heightened as he started to feel subtle movements under his hands.

The shouting and hiss of laser fire from outside had subsided, and Sonic could now hear frantic footsteps coming towards him. “Where was she hit?’, Mangat asked as he entered into the ship. Upon seeing Nish and the floor, however, Magat immediately relaxed his posture. “Don’t get me worked up like that, man”, he said with playful relief as the rest team followed in after him. Terho, evidently confused by how calm he appeared, turned to Mangat to ask what was going on. “Nothing serious, just Sonic’s a bad listener, that’s all”, Mangat replied. Curious, Tyr peeked at Nish from over Terho’s shoulder, “Hmm, just a scratch”, she said, then seeing the dead stormtroopers, “nice work”.

“Nish’s Id’elian, remember?”, Mangat added, realizing that Sonic was only becoming more perplexed, “that means she regenerates during her sleep cycle”. Sonic took his hands away from Nish’s wound to see that is had significantly reduced in size and that skin was visibly growing at the edges. The blood flow had also decreased to a nominal level.  
Heartbeat returning to normal, adrenaline rush turning to fatigue, Sonic sat staring at the blood staining his hands; dark, still warm. A familiar sensation. Sonic shook his head in order to clear his head and refocus, punctuating the motion with a heavy exhale, “Sorry. I’m still learning about this region of space, you know. Well, we all make mistakes don’t we?” Terho made a dismissive motion with his hand, “no big deal, you got the important part done”. Tyr came over and put a hand on Sonics back, which on account of her intimidating aura, was more unnerving than reassuring. “Indeed”, she said.

While Nish was asleep recovering from her wound, Terho, who had some experience in basic engineering, set about preparing the ship for them to take off in. In the meantime, the rest of the conscious team removed the stormtroopers corpses and cleaned up any excessive viscera within the ship. Tyr had motioned that they used what remained of the stormtrooper’s campfire to burn the bodies, but Sonic and Mangat had refused on the basis that it would create too much smoke; not to mention that is was a fairly macabre idea. Tyr attempted to argue that it was symbolic gesture to honor the dead, but luckily Nish woke up before they had to come up with a further counter-argument.

Nish was only a smidge more rested than she had been before. The first thing she did when she woke up was to ask if anyone, possibly, had any food. The rapid regeneration burned an ungodly amount of calories, she told them. Mangat made a quick run to his ship and came back with a jerky of some kind for her to eat.

Before long, Terho had finished fiddling with the ship, and they set off towards the specified meeting destination with their employers (Sonic, Terho, Tyr, and Nish in the commandeered transport ship, with Mangat taking his own vessel). It was, for the most part, a short flight, but the team still had time to converse along the way. Tyr related to Sonic and Nish the specifics of the ranged detachment’s victory, with Terho chiming in to tell them how Tyr had efficiently went from target to target, each time getting a clean headshot. “Headshots are more humane”, she said gleefully, “to quick for them to feel any pain”. Sonic could tell she had put thought into coming to that conclusion, maybe even conducted some field tests.

Still feeling guilty, Sonic apologized to the team for the confusion he’d caused earlier. Nish finished chewing the last piece of jerky she’d gotten from Mangat, and assured him that it was a common mistake, one that often worked in her favor when it was made by her enemies.

The more he talked with them, the more Sonic came to realize how much he enjoyed the company of these mercenaries he’d been assigned to work with. Sonic had been forced to form countless new social ties throughout his many dimensional jumps, yet with this new team he felt a connection that he never had before when just getting to know a group. And what’s more, by the way they were interacting, Sonic got the idea that everyone else on the team felt similarly. It was as if they all shared some fundamental drive within themselves.

The ship arrived at the meeting zone, another plain away from both the previous location of the ship and the city they started in. Mangat’s ship was already there, and through the combined light of the moon and their ship, they could make out that Mangat was outside waiting for them, along with their cloaked employers. They landed and went out to meet them.

“Mangat has already filled us in on the details, so now that you’ve delivered the ship we can move straight to payment, if that’s alright with you”, the cloaked man said as they came over. Each member of the team made some verbal or visual sign of affirmation.

“Good. First thing’s first; I want to assure each of you that you will receive the payment of credits that was promised to you. In addition to that, however, we have a proposition we’d like to make you.” The man looked to his female colleague who responded by slowly removing her cloak, the man following after her. The woman was light skinned, her brown hair was knotted in the back, and her eyes had a truculent glint to them. “You might already know who I am by my appearance, but just in case you don’t, I’m the Jedi working for the Rebels, Rey”, she said. Rey surveyed the looks of surprise and concern from the team in response to her statement. “You may have been told that the rebellion died not long after Snoke, but as you can tell we’re still here”, she continued, “we’re weak and vulnerable, but we haven’t yet given up. In fact, us remaining Rebels are using current instability within the First Order to build back up. We think you could help us”.

“You want us to join the rebellion”, Terho asked, not sure what to make of the situation.

“We need fighters who know how to fight using guerilla tactics, mercenaries like you fit the bill. It’s completely your decision, though. We’re simply making the offer”, the man said. “Oh, I’m Poe, by the way.”

Mangat rubbed his forehead. “You seem very confident in us. What makes you think we can be trusted?”

“During that interview earlier I used the force to get a general understanding of your thoughts. You could think of it as me checking your aura”, Rey responded.

“Hmm, empathic communication”, Nish mused. She furrowed her brow, “actually, what use does the rebellion have for this ship? And why didn’t you just steal it?”

“It contains valuable resources, by taking it from the First Order and using the resources for the rebellion it’s like killing two birds with one stone. The reason we didn’t take it is because it would be a suitable test for you recruits”, Poe said. “Plus we didn’t really want to risk such important members as ourselves on a less important mission like this one.”

To Sonic, the conversation being had was a useless jumble of names he didn’t know the full meaning or context behind. However, he could tell that it concerned them joining an entity known as ‘the rebellion’ and that this was a weighty proposition for his teammates. Sonic was still coming down from fighting those stormtroopers, so he wasn’t in the best mindset for making important decisions. But this was a situation in which he could afforrd some mistakes, and it appeared that if he joined these ‘rebels’ there was the possibility of working with his teammates again.

“I’m in”, Sonic said, raising his hand.

Tyr was next to weigh in. “Me too, I’m down”, she said with a grin.

Then Mangat, “you said we’d still get out payment?”

“Correct”, Poe said.

“Okay, I’ll join then”.

Terho and Nish deliberated for a time, but they both eventually agreed to join as well. “Well, this is better than we expected”, Poe said, pleasantly surprised that the whole team agreed to join the cause. Poe then told them that they’d be following the remaining Rebel ships to a seperate star system; he gave them the coordinates and told them they could take the stolen ship if they had to.  
Mangat announced that he was taking his own ship and that he’d meet back up with everyone when they got to their destination. Sonic started to head back to the transport ship with the rest of the team, but he was stopped by Rey, who said that she wanted to speak with him before he left.

“When I looked into your thoughts earlier I sensed something strange”, she told him, “traces of a power I’ve never encountered before, a power of no small significance. And I could tell it has something to do with that crystal on your hand.”

Sonic instinctively covered the crystal with his other hand. “Does that affect your decision to recruit me”, he said, meeting her challenging gaze.

“Not right now it doesn’t. It might even make you more valuable to the cause, but in order to be useful you’re going to have to be honest with us. That’s not an issue that needs to addressed tonight, though. You’re too on edge to be expected to be fully forthcoming, that’s obvious. We’ll have a little free time when we get to the next star system; you’ll tell me everything then.”  
Sonic was about to respond, but before he could, Rey had already pulled her hood up and led Poe back into the night.


	2. Live and Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic and his new team get more familiar with each other on their way to a new destination

Space travel is a naturally uncomfortable experience, a frightening-- and more often than not noisy-- business. It is also a prolonged experience, one that takes place in a confined space with little in the way of scenery. Throughout the multiverse many different methods have been developed in an attempt to mitigate this unpleasantness, but an unfortunately few amount of them could actually be considered successful. The first and most prevalent among these hardly perfect fixes is known as 'cryostasis'. Pretty much anyone who's went through the process will tell you it sucks royally. Sure, it allows people to go extremely far distances without wasting their whole lives getting there, but time still moves on while you're asleep, so the universe you wake up in is going to be very different than how it was when you set out. Then of course there's wormhole travel, which is no doubt efficient, but the inherent volatility is ultimately more risk than it's worth. Other societies have tried more uniquely bizarre methods such as 'NAFAL' (or Nearly As Fast As Light) travel, but those generally blow chunks too.

Sonic was very aware of these facts, that's why he was so relieved to discover that space travel in this new universe was conducted using 'hyperspeed'. He wasn't sure what the exact mechanics were, but it seemed to resemble a type of subspace travel. What makes subspace travel so great, and other forms of transport like it, is how smooth and generally secure it was. From inside the transport ship, the only sign that they were travelling was a soft but continuous hum that was so benign that after a few hours, Sonic forgot it was there.

The transport ship was spacious, and since it was meant to house a large crew there were more than enough bunks to satisfy (even if the mattresses were on the hard side). The provisions on board were meant more to deliver nutrients than to please the palate, but this too proved to be unproblematic, as everyone on the ship was used to eating such food anyway.

Given as there wasn't much else to do, the team spent most of their time talking and lounging around. Sonic had the most conversations with Tyr and Terho, the latter being just a free as the rest of the team once he had locked in their course. Nish spent most of the travel duration asleep in the captain's quarters, which she had called before anyone else had even begun to think about sleeping arrangements.

Sonic started out the trip more or less aloof, mentally occupied with processing all of his experiences since coming to this universe just a day ago. He had been through a lot in a short period of time-- which was not necessarily new to him-- but that's not the kind of thing a person just gets used to. After he finished internalizing the events of the earlier day, Sonic attempted to review everything he knew about this universe. That didn't end up taking much time considering he didn't actually know much of anything about it. So, at a loss for what to do, and also in part because he was getting lonely again, Sonic decided to socialize with his teammates.

The ship had a room in it's center that was furnished with decent couches and a couple of elevated tables/chairs (it was probably designed as a sort of rec room) and that was where most of the team ended up gravitating to. The atmosphere between the team had turned awkward now that there was no task directly in front of them keeping everyone on the same wavelength, and at first conversation was limited to generally superfluous topics such as what each person knew about the planet they were travelling to. Neither Sonic nor Tyr had much to offer in that area, but Terho had visited the planet before and he told them that it was home to a thriving market for secondhand space vessels, as well as other discarded tech. This conversation transitioned into another speculating as to what reason the rebellion had for going to that planet, and why they were being brought along. Some interesting theories emerged from this, including one by Tyr revolving around them being potential sacrifices to a snake deity, but it really amounted to small talk. Once that topic was exhausted, and no other immediately presented itself, they all fell back into their own placid thoughts.

Wanting to break the proverbial ice that had refroze since they had gotten onto the ship, Sonic decided to ask Terho and Tyr what had led them to choice the life of a soldier of fortune. Terho, who was happy to have another topic to keep him from sinking too deep into his own mind, was the first to respond.

"I started for the money, mostly", he said. "But I also enjoyed the independence the job provides. You could say I'm not the kind of person who can live on the same planet their whole life. That naturally limits your job options quite a bit. However, I figured if I was a mercenary I would be travelling enough to keep sane. Plus with contract work you're not really beholden to anyone; if you want to stop you can just break the contract and leave. That atmosphere of freedom appealed to me." Terho paused to rub the back of his neck. "I usually do protection, you know", he continued. "I don't like stepping on people's throats, so I generally prefer being a bodyguard. That way, when I kill someone, it's kinda self defense. I only took that job we did because the target was the First Order. Those bastards I have no love for."

"Nothing wrong with being discerning about whose blood you spill", Sonic said. "You're not bothered by the risk, though?"

Terho scoffed. "The way I see it, there isn't a place in the galaxy that can reasonably be considered safe. Not even the super rich can buy complete security, I know that firsthand. Mercenary work just deals with that danger more directly."

Sonic rested his head on his palms, leaning closer to Terho. "What made you agree to join the rebellion then", he inquired. "If you're so against being tied to an organization, then what makes the rebellion the exception?"

"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, I guess", Terho shrugged. "The Rebel mindset is pretty similar to my own, I think. They want freedom, their morality is at least grey, and they want the First Order to burn. I'm not against government as a concept, right? In fact, I thought the Republic was doing a good job before it was blown up. The kind of authoritarianism that the First Order represents is what I really fear. Over the years I have gotten progressively more concerned as they grown in power. A galaxy under their rule is something I won't accept. So when I got offered upfront the opportunity to stick it to those fascists, I couldn't help but join up." When he was done, Terho started restlessly tapping his knees with his hands. "How about you, Tyr. I bet you have some interesting reasons for joining."

Tyr, who had been quietly listening, put her head in her palms and looked up as if remembering something. "Hmm... I've been trying to improve myself lately and when an opportunity to join the Rebellion appeared in front of me, I knew that was what I had to do. I've done mercenary work essentially my entire life. Killing comes to me so easily that it's as if that's what I was born to do. I've actually won every fight I've ever been in; really, no bullshit", she stated proudly, sitting back into the couch, her chin raised up. "I've gotten scraped up pretty bad, but I've never lost. Hardly even ever had to run away."

Terho laughed. "Guess we're lucky that we'll have you by our side, then."

"Not necessarily. Just because I personally have never lost doesn't mean my teammates always survive", Tyr said, looking at Terho seriously. He took that as a sign to somberly quiet down.

"Anyway", Tyr continued, "I had been working as a mercenary without thinking too much about it, had naturally fell into the work and took a liking to it, but then one day I realized that I only took to killing because I'm good at it; there was no greater reason. After that I started to wonder what kind of person I am; question what my identity is, you know. I realized I couldn't come up with a clear picture of who I was, or even what I stood for. That made me decide to travel-- kinda like you, Terho", she said pithily, "to get a grasp on my identity. That's why I think joining the rebellion will be good for me; they have a purpose, an identity. But maybe it's because I've killed so many idealists that their values have started to rub off on me, who knows."

The room was quiet for a time after Tyr stopped talking. "How about you, Sonic, since you first asked the question. What's your reason", Terho asked.

"My reason? I was chiefly motivated by necessity", responded Sonic."I was stranded on that planet where we were recruited. I needed work and that job was a good start, but I was going to need to do something else after it. In addition, I found you guys were fun to be around and I thought if I joined up I would have a chance to be around you more. Embarrassing, I know"

"No, I appreciate that, Sonic", Tyr said.

"Me too", added Terho.

Sonic started to consider whether he should tell Tyr and Terho the truth about how he came to their dimension, but the thought flew from his mind as Nish trotted into the room. "You all seem to be getting along well", she said while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She plopped down onto the couch, beside Sonic. "What did I miss?", she asked.

"We were just sharing why each of us agreed to join the rebellion", said Terho.

"Darn", Nish said, disappointed. "I missed out on an intimate moment, didn't I? I wouldn't have dozed off for so long if I knew everyone else was going to bare their souls to each other without me. Though that was a good sleep-- very soothing, actually", she recalled with satisfaction, "but nevertheless it was not worth it. Well now I have give you my spiel just to even it out. Let's see, I already told you I'm from Id'ele. You probably don't know this, but Id'eleian society is very static, which is very much tied to the fact that Id'eleians have a good deal of incentive to spend time sleeping. As you know our bodies heal during our sleep cycle. This doesn't just extend to injuries, though. If an Id'eleian has eaten enough and sleeps for long enough, their telomeres-- the part of the cell the diminishes to the greatest extent during replicatio-- can even be repaired to a certain extent. As such, an Id'eleian who spends long periods of time asleep could potentially live indefinitely. Therefore, as you would imagine, most people on Id'ele try to sleep for as much time as they can.

"If you were to ask me, though, I would say I don't personally think that is the best way to spend one's life. Don't get me wrong, I do sleep more than the average humanoid, this you have well observed. And no offense, but I will also probably outlive all of you. Despite that, I might still be the most active Id'eleian alive." Nish started toying with the buttons nearest her collar, and it was almost as if she were going to stop there, but she continued. "When I was living on Id'ele I couldn't stand how complacent everyone was. They just dreamed away without knowing what was going on around them, and no one ever made an attempt to improve themselves as a person. Id'eleian society has created no art and no scientific development of galactic note over the entire span of its existence. You could hardly even call it at society, all we're good at is farming, which by the way, is only so output can be maximized even while everyone's dozing off."

"Anyway, I couldn't abide by that attitude, so I left and found myself work as a mercenary. Since then I've struggled, searched, and won what might humbly be called glorious victories. Unlike most of my people I've actually lived a fulfilling life; I can really say that. That's the reason why I decided to join the rebellion: they think like me. The Rebellion is the only group I know of in the Universe whose vision is centered around progress... or... well, progress after overthrowing the current regime, but better than most. The Rebels were bold enough to say what we are isn't enough, that we can strive for more. The First order pretends that's what they want, too. But no one's fooled by their propaganda. They care about securing their power, pure and simple. And in the end, the interests of the people don't align with that goal."

Sitting beside her, Sonic noticed that Nish had become increasingly animated, or at least animated by her standards. "Sorry', Nish said, easing back into the couch. "I get worked up when I talk about this kind of thing."

"Getting worked means you're passionate; that's good when it comes to quality of life", Tyr said, smiling. "I wish I had the same passion you do."

"That's right", Sonic blurted out, enlivened to speak after hearing Nish. "If there's something that can stir your emotions that strongly, then that just proves you're willing to put your heart behind pursuing it. That's a good sign, it shows you're genuine." Sonic felt the eyes of his teammates watching him while he said this, yet somehow that didn't make him feel as embarrassed as it normally would.

"I think each of us has a goal we feel equally strongly about. And I also think those goals can complement each other. Honestly, I think we can become something greater than the sum of its parts if we work together. Because of that, I consider myself fortunate for being able to meet each of you", Sonic continued. When he was done, the room went silent and the air became charged with feeling.

"I think this had made up for that earlier moment of intimacy that I missed", Nish quipped. She did so without much enthusiasm, more just to say something, but regardless she succeeded in breaking the tension. The atmosphere surrounding them calmed down, but everyone there knew that a significant gulf between them had been closed, and that from here on out they could become a team in more than name alone. Sonic felt bad that Mangat wasn't with them, and passingly wondered how he was getting along alone on his own ship.

The rest of the trip passed by smoothly. In the mornings Tyr would work out in her room, and Nish still slept a good deal of the time, but the dynamic between the team seemed to Sonic to have improved considerably. Everyone was generally at ease with each other, they had even gotten to a level of comfort where there was no pressure to keep a conversation going; being quiet in another's presence no longer felt awkward. They arrived at the planet they were directed to in what felt to Sonic like no time at all. The total time spent in travel was four days.

The planet they arrived at was mostly covered in ice, and the area they landed in, one of the few habitable regions it possessed, was still exceptionally cold. The terrain was also quite rocky; from where they set down it was mostly empty land covered in a thin layer of snow with a few clusters of hardy looking trees here and there.

Not long after they landed, Terho picked up a message sent to them by Rey. In it she told them where her ship was located and that Sonic should head there to be given the details of their next mission; the rest of the team was to stay put for the time being. The walk to Rey's ship wasn't excessively lengthy, but by the end of it Sonic was frozen to the bone.

The ship had a strange disk shape and looked less safe even than the transport vessel Sonic had arrived on. As he got closer, Sonic saw that Rey was already outside meditating in the frigid snow. She had a thick cloak on, much thicker than the one he last saw her wearing.

"I'm surprised a member of the rebellion as important as you are is going around in that rustbucket of a ship. Maybe you're here to trade it in at the market", Sonic said, the shiver in his voice making the line sound considerably less cool than he had hoped it would (not that it would have anyway). Rey opened her eyes when he spoke, though her expression remained unchanged. She exhaled deeply, the exiting breath creating a large cloud of white fog.

"We keep it for sentimental reason more than anything", she said, "but it still works fine. The Rebellion has used it for a long time and it's kind of become a symbol for us. I'm not even the original owner, but I can't help but feel attached to it. It's a miracle that it hasn't fallen apart yet." She turned to Sonic, a faint smile on her face, "I guess you could say the same thing about the Rebellion itself." The expression of emotion caught Sonic off guard; Rey had seemed much more grave, solemn, when he last saw her. The change didn't last long, however. Just a soon as she turned to Sonic, she appeared to catch herself and then took on a more detached air.

She stood up. "I didn't ask you to come here so we could talk about the Falcon, though. Now I imagine you'll want to go inside, your fur won't be enough to keep you warm in this freezing temperature." Rey pressed some buttons on the ship to let down the ramp, and then motioned Sonic to come inside.

The interior of the "Falcon"-- Sonic assumed Rey was referring to the ship when she said the name earlier-- was in an even worse state than the exterior. A fine brown grime had covered essentially every built in surface, and there was exposed circuitry everywhere. Sonic even saw a nest of some sort where a panel in the wall was missing.

"If I may, what was it that you were doing out there", Sonic asked as they walked through the corridors.

"Hmm? Oh, in a sense you could say I was working out, getting swole in the art of mindfulness. Meditating can help develop force abilities. I've found I get the best results when I'm alone in nature. There are less distractions, fewer barriers so it's easier to get in tune with the energies of the force. I'm actually from a desert climate originally, so you can trust me when I say I wouldn't have been out there if it wasn't so effective."

"I see", Sonic replied, too concerned with seeming impolite to ask for a further explanation. Rey continued to lead Sonic through the Falcon, and as they walked, Sonic caught a glimpse of Poe sitting with a pair of humans he didn't recognize. They saw him as well, and eyed Sonic suspiciously until he passed out of view. Apparently the Falcon keeps a full crew, he thought. Sonic had initially thought the Falcon was Rey's personal ship, and considering he had come alone, the presence of so many other people put him ill at ease.

After a short while they made it to a room which contained several beds and a single table; likely the crew quarters. Rey took a seat by the table and indicated that Sonic sit opposite her. "Let's not waste any time", she said as he settled in. "I want to know what it is that you've been hiding, and I want to know the nature of the power I sensed within you. Remember, I'll be able to tell if you're lying to me."

Rey watched Sonic intently as Sonic pondered the question. "If you are able to tell when I'm lying, I assume you'll also know when I'm telling the truth", he asked.

Rey's eyes narrowed. "That's correct", she said. "But why would that matter?"

"What I'm going to tell you will probably seem ridiculous. I just want to be sure that you know that it's the truth."

Rey crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Go on."

Seeing at it would be pointless to deceive Rey, Sonic differed to just come straight out with it. "Alright then, the truth is that I am from a different dimension than this one."

"A different dimension? As in, an entirely separate reality?", she asked, her brow furrowed.

"Correct, and this is not the first time I've traveled to another dimension, though hopefully it will be the last", Sonic responded. He felt silly and foolish when he said it, he usually did. It's hard to not to come off crazy when conveying something like that, and he had tried a good deal of different wordings. As if being an inexplicably blue, humanoid hedgehog wasn't enough to make him feel like a complete joke. It was like the universe had played a very cruel and extremely convoluted joke on him.

Rey took some time to internalize what she had just heard, making an impressive variety of facial expressions as she did so, ranging from irritated to nonplussed. "I can say with some certainty that you are not lying", she stated finally. "However, that doesn't automatically mean what you said is true."

"Fair enough", Sonic said. He then extended the arm with the crystal embedded in it. "Does this count as evidence?"

Rey looked at it with curiosity. "That's what lets you travel between dimensions?"

Sonic nodded. "It's called an All Star."

Rey took another moment to consider this. "Supposing it's true that you can do what you say, then what's your reasoning for doing it? Why come here?"

"That's a difficult question to answer."

"How so?"

"I don't have complete control over where I go", Sonic said. He sighed dejectedly "Truth be told, I'm lost, lost within the infinite multiverse." He looked down mournfully upon the All Star, "And I came into this position through recklessness. I didn't think through my actions, didn't understand their repercussions, and now I'm here." Sonic felt the familiar cimmerian dread that followed this train of thought begin to descend upon him, and he had to run his hands through the fur on his head regain his composure. "I'm sorry, I'm not really answering your question, am I?

Rey made no response. She had begun to lose her projected harshness, and now Sonic got the sense that she was regarding him with sympathy. He decided to move on with his explanation. "Anyway, an All Star is a limited form of a more perfect means of trans-dimensional travel known as the Chocolate Starfish, an object which is said to grant a person the power to look into all realities and travel to any one at will. You see, an All Star transports you mostly randomly, the only direction you get-- if it could even be considered direction-- is your relative dimensional proximity to the Chocolate Starfish."

Rey was completely bewildered. "Before you said that you hoped this would be the last dimension you would have to go to. Does that mean you think the Chocolate Starfish is located in here in this reality?"

Sonic bit his lip. "I know it is. The All Stars are somewhat sentient, or they have an awareness at least, and even before I came here It was instinctively telling me that your dimension was the one in which the Chocolate Starfish resides."

"The ability you describe would make a person mightier than a god", Rey said, frowning, "and that prospect disturbs me far more than it does entice me."

Sonic put his hands up in deference, "I know what you're thinking: an individual who possesses the power of the Chocolate Starfish would become a potential threat too great to tolerate. Firstly, I think it's important that I tell you that you need not be concerned that someone will simply stumble upon the Chocolate Starfish, you can only find if you already possess an All Star, and I'm pretty sure I'm the only person who still does. Secondly, I am also aware that no mortal should be trusted with a power that great. But I trust you know I mean it when is say that I only want to use it to get back home. After that I will relinquish the Chocolate Starfish and it will obscure its presence once more. You can check my mind if you want to." Sonic knew Rey had taken him up on his offer when he felt a subtle tingling in his brain. She sighed deeply after she was finished and dragged down the skin of her cheeks with her hands. "Okay, I believe you."

"Are you satisfied now?", Sonic asked.

"Not really..." She thought about it again and then closed her eyes in resignation. "Sure, fine. One more thing, though", Rey said, holding up a finger, "I will help you with your quest-- on the condition that you stick with the rebellion a little longer. You'll have resources at your disposal and be able to explore large areas of space, two things I suspect would be very useful in finding this starfish of yours. All we expect in return is for you to fulfill the duties you accepted when you agreed to join. I think that would make everyone happy. So how about it?"

Sonic had feared Rey was going to force him to leave now that she knew the danger he could pose. He had only ever divulged the whole truth of his situation in a few other jumps, and in only one of those did he receive a good response afterward, so he was overjoyed when Rey instead asked him to stay with the Rebellion.

"That sounds wonderful!", Sonic exclaimed.

Rey chuckled, an act which Sonic expected to find strange coming from her, but instead seemed so natural that it made him wonder if Rey's abrasiveness was a recently adopted trait. "Good, cause right now the Rebellion could use anyone it can get", she said. Rey suddenly widened her eyes as if she had just remembered something important, "Oh, I forgot to tell you what your team's mission is! That was the cover I gave to get you over here-- and by the way, I don't want you to tell your teammates what you just told me. I'll probably let some of the higher members of the Rebellion know eventually, but at your level that knowledge would cause too much chaos. Anyway, all you have to tell them is that tomorrow you all will be accompanying me and a few other people to the markets as a security detail. The exact time hasn't been decided yet, but we'll send you a message when it is and you will meet us back here." Rey clapped her hands together softly. "Okay, that's everything."

Thinking that Rey was through questioning him, Sonic was about to ask if he could leave, but Rey spoke up again before he got a word out. "You can come and talk with me if you need anything", she said reassuringly. "You're far from the only Rebel who's harboring some pain. We've all lost things, that's why we work so hard to protect each other."

"I'll try to live up to that ideal", Sonic responded before walking out.

He saw Poe as passed through the hallway again. He was holding a coat and told Sonic that he'd noticed he was without one and thought that he might like taking this spare. "It's beyond freezing out there", Poe said, "plus you'll need it tomorrow as well." The coat was a couple of sizes too large, but the gesture warmed Sonic's heart so much that he thought he might not even need it.

Sonic did of course accept the coat, thanking Poe profusely. As a result, the walk back to the transport ship was much better than the earlier one. Sonic even ended appreciating the length of the coat, as it extended down to his legs; convenient, seeing as he still didn't have any pants. Not to say Sonic enjoyed wearing pants, in fact he generally found them uncomfortable, and overall unnecessary since there wasn't anything down there he needed to cover. On the whole, Sonic preferred kilts or skirts, but the fact of the matter was that the cold necessitated some extra leg protection.

Bundled up against the elements, the frigid air accentuating the warmth in his core, Sonic's mind went back to his conversation with Rey. She had listened to him with understanding, and at the end spoke with an earnesty that dispelled his misjudgement of her. Sonic could now see that Rey's coldness was not indicative of arrogance or detachment, but was instead the manifestation of a pain which caused her to be slow in trusting others. Sonic could not definitively say what the cause of this pain was, but the Rebellion had apparently recently suffered heavy losses in personnel, and he was willing to bet that had something to do with it. Rey had said that everyone in the Rebellion had lost something, Sonic now supposed those weren't just empty words. It then struck him why everyone had such enmity for the First Order, and why the Rebels were willing to fight them to the death: they had been the ones who caused them all this suffering.

Sonic had not been with the Rebels long, but he now found himself sympathizing with their cause. The battle between the Rebellion and the First Order was not a conflict between two opposing political factions, it was the desperate struggle of the victims against their oppressors. Sonic, who through hardship had been worn down dangerously close to apathy, now became galvanized. He thought of his teammates, each fighting with their own motives under the same banner. He would not let them fall to the First Order, nor for that matter would he let Rey and Poe. They had all gone through enough already. The embers burning within Sonic became a roaring inferno. Home could wait a little longer; he was ready to fight.


	3. Escape From the City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebels set off to get a new ship, and receive an unwanted visit.

Mangat's empty ship was already parked outside when Sonic got back from his encounter with Rey. Going inside the transport ship, Sonic found Mangat chatting away with the rest of the team. He was telling them how lonely he had been by travelling all by himself, how the tedium of the journey had nearly drove him to madness. Mangat talked with theatrical melodrama, but underneath that, Sonic could tell he was genuinely excited to be reunited with the team. When he was done and they had all gotten caught up, Sonic explained the details of their assignment for tomorrow. Terho was glad it was a protection job, and even gave them some of the tips he'd learned over his years as a bodyguard. Tyr, as she was regarded by the team as the strongest single fighter, was elected to watch the ships while they were out. After that, people gradually drifted away to bed, the ship becoming quieter and quieter which each person who left, until the whispers of the wind were the only sounds that could be heard inside.

Early the next day they got the message from Rey to head out. Most of the team had a coat or cloak among their sparse personal effects that they could wear against the cold. In the near nomadic life of a mercenary, a good coat is one of the few possessions that a person might be forgiven for growing attached to. Only Terho went out in the clothes he was already wearing, saying he was used to the climate. Nish wrapped herself in a strange black garment she said was called a "Snuggy", and explained that it was probably her people's greatest cultural achievement.

Rey was again already outside when Sonic and company got to the Falcon, but this time she was paired with a man that Sonic recognized from the previous day as one of the people who had been sitting by Poe. The man had a lean build and was shivering in a old brown jacket. Rey introduced him as "Finn". Finn greeted them through his chattering teeth with a curt, "Hi", and looked over the strange new recruits uneasily. He glanced at Rey entreatingly, clearly confused by her choice of bodyguards. She gave him an apologetic smile, and then announced that they'd be heading into the market.

They trudged through the snow in a miniature procession with Rey and Finn in front and their bodyguards fanned out behind them. Finn kept close to Rey, talking to her in a hushed tone and occasionally turning his head to check on the strangers behind them. This lasted only shortly before, Terho, proud of his expertise, started telling Rey and Finn how he had worked in market before and was well familiar with the layout.

"Really?", Finn asked, surprised.

"You bet, I prowled those streets for a good half a year", Terho responded. "And that wasn't that long ago, there might even be some vendors I know still there", he said with a laugh.

Rey slapped Finn on the back, causing him to briefly lose his footing. "I told you I knew what I was doing", she said.

Once he returned to his normal gait, Finn addressed Terho again. "That really will be useful, though. This is an important job, and neither Rey nor I have ever been to the market here, so any information is useful."

"That reminds me, what is it that the Rebellion needs from the tech market, anyway", asked Mangat, who was shielding his eyes from the sunlight reflected off the snow. Then, understanding why Nish had started frowning at him, quickly adding, "just so we know what to look out for", so that Finn wouldn't think his question too aggressive.

"No, you have a right to know what you're risking yourselves for", Finn admitted. "I mean, you are already members of the Rebellion, even if only very recently. There's no reason to keep you in the dark." He look to see if Rey conferred, and saw her approval written plainly on her face.

"The Rebellion lost the last of it's fleet ships at Crait, we're going to the market to get a new one."

"So we're buying a ship", Mangat said, unimpressed.

"Not just any ship, a modified colony class Star Seeder. And apparently it's been outfitted with some deadly firepower", Finn said admonishingly.

"The Rebellion can't keep fighting a small scale guerilla war", Rey added soberly. "We need something that will allow us to face the First Order head on. Admittedly a Star Seeder isn't the most imposing vessel, but the First Order fleet has yet to recover from the blow we dealt it. They themselves only have a few Star Destroyers left. Acquiring a large ship like this one will show that the Rebellion is still a force to be reckoned with, and hopefully give us the momentum we need to make substantial ground in our cause."

Mangat demurred after hearing Rey's comprehensive explanation. "Gotcha, very cool."

"Pardon me in saying this", Terho said, "but what you described sounds like a hefty purchase. Are you sure you have the funds for it."

Rey snorted. "Of course. That transport ship you got for us wasn't the only one we've targeted. The Rebellion's been picking apart the First Orders supply lines since after Crait. Desperate times call for bold new strategies. As a result our coffiers are doing surprisingly well. It was Finn's idea, actually", she said, nodding her head toward him. "We're carrying the credits with us, and from what I've heard the market can be a dangerous place. That's why we brought you four with us in the first place." Rey started inspecting her nails. "Does that assuage your concerns, Terho?" Terho apologized again and told her that it did.

They continued to walk, and as they did Sonic imagined what a "colony class ship" would look like. Rey had compared it to a "Star Destroyer", which made it seem quite intimidating. At the very least he hoped it would have more visual flare than the ships he had seen already. Perhaps he was spoiled by Dr. Eggman's meticulously designed creations, but the technology of this universe struck Sonic as rather dull. Deep down he hoped they would be purchasing some oversized, metal pirate ship, or if he was really lucky, Sonic would end up cruising in a massive Gundam. He knew the chances of this were abysmal, but one can dream.

This particular dream, however, did not last long. Sonic was unwilling dragged back to reality as they cleared the slope they had been ascending, revealing the entire wide expanse of the market far below. It was a fascinating sight. Rough metal structures crowded together beside teems of ships in every size and color imaginable. Thin paths cut though the mess where miniscule people scurried about, creating a chaotic patchwork. The horizon was filled with the swarming silhouettes of spaceships taking off and landing down.

"Incredible", Finn exclaimed.

"That's one way to describe it", Terho chuckled. "Though in my experience, people more often call it 'horrible' or 'needlessly disorganized'."

It didn't take them long to get down to the market proper. Everyone but Terho was cold from the walk-- Finn especially complained he thought he was becoming frostbitten-- so the first thing they did was gather around one of the many small fires lit by the vendor's stalls.

"Why put a vibrant market on such an inhospitable planet", Finn grumbled as he warmed his hands by the fire.

"I did recommend you take something heavier", Rey chided.

"Well, I like this jacket", Finn said bashfully, pulling it tighter.

"Being in a secluded location like this keeps other traffic at a minimal", Terho chimed in a distance away from the fire. "I mean, you wouldn't come here for any reason other than the market, would you? Not all of the business conducted here is strictly legal, the inimical weather helps to keep away colonists and any law enforcement that might be brought along with them. Plus the cold keeps the tech here in relatively stable condition."

They remained by the fire until the owner of the stand they were standing near, accused them of loitering and asked them to either buy something or shove off. They opted for the latter. Rey told Terho the name of the vendor they were visiting, and after sifting through his memory for the name, he set about leading them through the maze-like pseudo-streets of the market. They pressed on, and Sonic tried to remain undistracted even as they encountered new curiosities at every corner. There were weapons as vicious looking as they were unintuitive to use, bionic replacements for every kind of appendage in existence (yes, every kind), and even personalized flying suits with steel wings which the nearby presence of sleek jet-packs suggested was more an aesthetic choice.

Colorful aliens bumped against each others while pillars of smoke from the fire rose up into the air, mixing with the gray clouds that sent snowflakes floating back down. The combined effect was a scene so ineffable, that even the well traveled Sonic found himself transfixed by it. Yet, despite the odds, Sonic was able to keep his wits about him until Terho got them to the vendor they were looking for. His name was Dozhel and he ran a markedly better establishment than the shoddy stalls that composed most of his competition. The most notable difference being that Dozhel's Superior Salvaging and Secondhand Spaceship Emporium had a real, insulated building for servicing customers. Dozhel also had a massive inventory of ships outside that emanated from the main building and stretched far into the distance. Among this inventory, way in the back, a gargantuan form stood casting a shadow on all the lesser ships which surrounded it.

Sonic knew what it was the instant he set his eyes on it. He gaped, "that's..."

"There she is", Rey interrupted giddily, "our soon to be flagship."

They each stood in awe of this behemoth of technology. Rey and Finn looked on the verge of tears for this first tangible breakthrough after so many defeats. Mangat actually started crying. "It has so much artillery", he sobbed, "it's beautiful."

Rey turned to face the rest of the group. "Come on, we're going in"

Dozhel, an ewok with very emotive features, sat on a tall stool by a counter to the left of the entrance. Two menacing guards were on either side of him. He grinned widely as they came through the door, flashing his impeccably white teeth. Sonic found it disturbing, those ivory mashers set in that tiny face.

Dozhel spread his arms wide as if he were about to hug someone. "Rey, Finn, you're right on time. Early, actually", he said, checking a bulky device that Sonic assumed was a watch. "That's alright; they say it's fashionable to be late, but I think the opposite is true. It shows you respect other people's time, and that's fashionable in my book."

Rey bowed slightly. "It's good to finally meet you in person, Dozhel."

Dozhel waved his hands dismissively. "You don't have to butter me up so much, dear. We're here to do business, and business has nothing to do with manners. Speaking of business, let's get down to it. I want to keep the momentum on this efficiency rolling. Have you got the cash?"

Finn dug through a couple pockets sewn into the inside of his jacket and produced a hefty stack of large gold chips. "It's all right here"

"Perfect." Dozhel motioned to one of his guards to retrieve the chips. "I hope you don't mind if I have my people inspect your credits before we finalize? I'm a naturally cautious person, and this is a rather large transaction."

"By all means', Rey said.

The guard passed the credits to Dozhel, who pulled out an archaic magnifying glass and began scrutinizing them one by one. "This might take awhile", he said. Rey and the rest of the party stood in silence as they patiently waited for him to finish, watching minute after minute elapse before them until Rey finally gave up and started ignoring his presence.

"This new ship is going to become a symbol of our cause", she addressed her companions, "as such it's going to need a name that stands out. Any ideas?"

"A good name can go a long way in inspiring people", Finn muttered. "How about 'Phoenix', cause we're rising from the proverbial ashes?"

"No, too cliche", Rey responded.

"What do you think of 'Spirit of Revolt?'", offered Nish.

"Better, but it's a little on the long side", Rey said.

"I got one", exclaimed Mangat, raising his hand. "You know how all of the First Order ships have really aggressive sounding names like 'Star Destroyer' or 'Dreadnaught'? Well, I think we should one up them and call our ship something like 'Quasar Obliterator'. Sounds good, right?"

"Not really the image we're going for"

"I could tell you it's original name if that would help", Dozhel said without looking away from his magnifying glass. "It was first used to transport a colony of Beylians who sold it to me once they had settled and no longer had any use for something that size. When it was first made they thought it resembled a type of ceremonial sword used on their planet so they gave it the moniker 'Beylian Blade'."

Rey rubbed an eyebrow with her thumb while she pondered the idea, eventually deciding that she liked it. "It could be punchier though", she admitted. "Short names with hard syllables tend to stay in people's minds the longest."

"Why don't we just call it the 'Beyblade', then?", suggested Sonic.

"Perfect! I can see it now, the rebel flagship, Beyblade." Rey said enthusiastically. "We'll go with that."

Dozhel wrapped up his inspection of the credits soon after they settled on a name. He told Rey that everything looked good on her end, and gave her the entrance codes to the ship that was now called 'Beyblade'. "I'm sure you'll find everything to your liking, but for some reason something isn't, you can come see me within two stellar weeks and I will either fix the problem free of charge or give you a free refund", he said.

Rey thanked him, and with great enal she told the rest of the party that they were ready to board their new ship. But before they could go into anymore jubilation, the door to outside swung open and a young woman entered into the building, the cold air rushing in behind her. She had short red hair, a spattering of freckles, and wore a fur-lined robe over a black officers uniform. Standing before them with rigid posture, the woman exuded authority. Dezhol tried to welcome her into his shop, only to be stopped mid-sentence when she silenced him with a perfunctory wave of her hand.

"It took me a great deal of time to locate you, lowlife", she said with a voice equal parts regal and imperious.

"I resent that", Dozhel exclaimed indignantly, "my business may not be perfectly legal but that doesn't mean I'm an unethical person. I simply operate off postconventional morality."

"No, not you, imbecile", she responded hotly, eliciting an offended gasp from Dozhel and a 'wow, rude' from one of the guards. She stared Rey in the eyes fiercely, "you're the one I've come for."

Rey, more perturbed than intimidated, stepped forward to face the woman. "And who might you be." The woman seemed somewhat repulsed that she would be questioned, and started to remove her robe. "You may call me Ji-Yu. I am a member of the knights of Ren and I have come to claim your life", she said histrionically. Her robe removed, Ji-Yu held her arms out to the side and clenched her fists, as in response, two curved blades of plasma to shoot out at either wrist. Before anyone had any time to react, she lunged forward at Rey. Her feet went lightly across the ground, and her sights were dead focused on her target, everything else thrown to periphery. As such, she was slow to react when Finn moved from behind Rey, and when he took took a heavy swing at her chin she was hit by his uppercut full on. The impact knocked Ji-Yu straight on her back.

Finn winced and tried to shake the pain from the hand he had punched with. "She has a really hard chin", he complained.

Ji-yu hauled herself back up from the ground, rage beginning to crack her mask of calm superiority, and was about to make a second attack on Rey when one of Dozhel's guards took a shot at her with his blaster. She blocked the laser beam with one of her arm blades, and redirected her attention to the guard. Anger having gotten her blood boiling, she reached him before he could get off another shot, dragging one of her blades across his chest. The other guard only had enough time to get her hand to her holster before Ji-Yu leaped over and used both blades to cut clear through her waist.

Dispatching the guards gave the Rebel's enough time to recover from their shock, however, and when Ji-Yu turned back around, she faced four guns leveled at her, one shoddy lightsaber engaged, and a small blue creature in a fighting stance. She grunted in irritation, knowing herself to have lost the advantage of surprise. "Oh good, you've got her", Dozhel said as he tentatively crawled out from beneath his desk.

"How did you find us", Rey inquired in a disaffected tone. Ji-Yu rose to her full height and spit a clot of blood onto the floor. "You're not especially discreet", she replied. "The only reason you were able to evade us for so long is because your numbers are so few now." Ji-Yu allowed herself a small smirk as she said this.

Rey ignored the attempt to goad, extended out her free hand, and slowly closed her eyes. Ji-Yu looked puzzled at first, but then she started to wince. "What are you doing", she asked, putting her hands on her temples. She snarled and began gritting her teeth, "no, that won't work. I'm not letting you into my head." Rey started showing signs of straining. Her extended arm quaked. She opened her eyes and gasped in exertion, "you've had some training, I see."

Ji-Yu had begun to sweat. "Of course, unlike you, the knights of Ren put a great emphasis on discipline."

Rey pointed the tip of her lightsaber at Ji-Yu. "That's fine. We can do this the old-fashioned way as well. Now, answer the question and maybe I'll spare...'' Rey was stopped by the sound of a propulsion system settling against the ground outside. "Now what", Finn grumbled as he went to go outside. He opened the door and stopped dead when he saw the stormtroopers streaming from a recently landed ship in the distance. He frantically slammed the door closed and pivoted 180 degrees on his heel. "Time to leave", he blurted out.

"What's wrong", Nish asked Finn with concern.

Ji-Yu scoffed from the ground. "You wasted your time trying to interrogate me and now my reinforcements are here to blast you scum to pieces."

Sonic looked to Rey for what to do next and saw in her expression a sangfroid he guessed had been developed over the course of her numerous encounters with the First Order. "How many were there", she calmly asked Finn.

"Enough to pose a threat. We could probably take them on, but it would be risky... Listen, I don't think we have time to deliberate."

Rey nodded. "Sonic, I need you to get to the Falcon as fast as you can. You're small enough that you will probably be able to lose the stormtroopers in the crowds of the market. The rest of you are gonna stay with me and we're going to fight our way to the Beyblade. Any questions?"

Dozhel, who was now cowering in the far corner, raised his hand. "Am I included in 'the rest of you'?"

"Only if you want to be."

"No, thank you. I'm good." Dozhel said and then pointed behind his desk, "I'm going to leave through the back exit over there."

Mangat gestured to Ji-Yu with his blaster, "what should we do with her?" Rey was about to answer when the hinge to door was shot off, causing it to collapse. A group of stormtroopers rushed in through the opening and were greeted by a barrage of laser fire. Seeing her chance to attack amidst the chaos, Ji-Yu rushed to re-engage Rey, her arm blades held out like a shield against any projectiles. Once she got close enough in range, she swung both blades down towards Rey, who blocked horizontally with her lightsaber. "Get to the Falcon, Sonic, hurry", she shouted. Sonic hesitated, at first wanting to disobey Rey's orders and stay in the fight. He wanted to aid them in their battle, to tear through the opponents threatening his allies. But he also knew that they could fend for themselves. At that moment, what they most needed from him was to mobilize the reserves, and they needed it done fast.

Sonic looked out into the battle unfolding outside, his eyes which were accustomed to tracking movement at extreme speed, instantly processed the visual information present and allowed him to assertain the safest route through. He took a runner's crouch, flexed the powerful muscles in his legs, and burst forward with such flashing speed as if he were jumping into hyperspace. The stormtroopers could just as well have been mannequins as he weaved himself through the spaces between their formation. He left them to grapple with his after-image and surged ahead into tightly packed crowd of the market. He ducked through legs and hurdled over shoulders, and Sonic felt life flow through his veins once more. He worked his way past the huddled masses and became a blue blur cutting through the settled snow. His brain lurched to adjust to the visual information shooting past his eyes, returning to the level of processing it had to do once before. The environment melted away, then came into to stunning clarity, all other objects moving through sludge compared to him. He was pushing himself, moving with such speed that he could barely breathe, his heart pumping blood like he was a hummingbird. He felt like an engine injected with nitro. He felt free.

Sonic was close to collapsing as he neared the Falcon and began to slow down. He cried out that it was him, Sonic, and he urgently needed to be allowed in. After no more than thirty seconds the ramp was let down. Sonic nearly fainted when a giant bear like creature emerged from the ship and growled in his face. Fortunately Poe was next to come down the ramp. "You look distressed; did something go wrong?", he asked, going beside the giant bear. "This is chewie, by the way", he added, seeing Sonic's heightened bewilderment. "He's an old school rebel, been fighting the good fight since before I was born." Poe shook his head. "You two can be properly introduced later. Right now just tell me what happened."

Sonic gave a brief summary of the events that had occurred at Dozhel's shop, and explained how Rey had asked him to bring the Falcon back with him. "I imagine she also wants you to message Tyr to follow us to their location", he added at the end.

"You better hop in, then", Poe said, walking back to the Falcon.

The conflict in and around Dozhel's shop ceased briefly as both the Rebels and First Order troops were left stunned by Sonic's flash-bang exit. The stormtroopers Sonic passed shot or grabbed at where they thought he was, and variously caught air. Even Rey and Ji-Yu halted their clash, their minds too busy trying to intepret what they had just witnessed. But through adrenaline and the perilousness of their situation, the shock passed quickly. Soon they were back to fighting. Aware that they were being bottlenecked, the stormtroopers retreated back to use the door frame as cover. Rey and Ji-Yu continued their ferocious melee, plasma sizzling like a shrimp on the barbie each time their weapons collided.

"We're going to be overrun if we don't get out of here soon", Finn yelled as he attempted to keep the throngs of Stormtroopers at bay.

Rey jumped to avoid Ji-Yu's leg as it swung underneath, trying to sweep her over. "I hear you, I'll create an opening and then we can make a break for it. Everybody make sure you're ready." She deflected a few more blows and then took a step back, switching her grip in order to wield her lightsaber one-handed. Rey closed her eyes and made a shoving motion with her free hand, causing Ji-yu to fly off her feet and through the door. "Now!", Rey exclaimed, leading the party to the back exit that Dozhel indicated earlier.

They made their egress while the stormtroopers rushed to aid their superior. Coming out into the scrap yard behind Dozhels shop, the Rebels ran in close formation, poised to return fire when their pursuers caught up. "What happened to Sonic back there? Is he okay?", Mangat asked as they booked it across the snow.

"He'll tell you everything when he brings the Falcon back to us", Rey said. "Probably", she added, herself unsure. A laser beam screeched over their heads. "For now, worry about yourself." The stormtroopers were now in the scrapyard, and following them with the determination of bloodhounds. They fired at the Rebels and the Rebels fired back, but both groups were running, separated by some distance, so no shots met their targets.

All the same, the Rebels pressed further into the shadow of the looming behemoth until they got to one of the elevators that went through the ship, and at the bottom served as entrances. They frantically brushed off the snow that caked the sides and found the panel that housed the exterior console. Rey opened the panel and imputed into the console the codes given to her by Dozhel. They waited with bated breath to see if they would be brought to salvation or condemned by faulty technology and a perfidious used ship dealer. Their answer arrived when the massive ship shuttered to life and the elevator doors before them slipped open.

The dust-filled interior of the Beyblade that they came into would have been a profoundly spooky sight had the lights not been on. The outdated, yet well preserved furniture was festooned with thick cobwebs that would have an arachnophobe looking over their shoulders for the eight legged monsters of nightmares. There were, of course, no spiders crawling around the empty corridors of that ship. In fact, since it was a space faring vessel, there were no breeches in the Beyblade large enough for any insects to penetrate through the hull.

"It's going to take ages to clean this mess", bemoaned Nish as they rushed past the long abandoned halls and to the command center.

"I bet there are some ghosts wandering around that we could enlist to help", Mangat said, trying to lighten the mood. An effort not aided by the wheezes which broke up his sentence.

It was quite a walk to the pilot's cockpit located far in the front of the ship, even if you factor in the couple of moving walkways that had been so thoughtfully installed and which they utilized on the way. Everyone was panting and sweating when they eventually did get there (Nish was the first to run out of energy, but was able to cajole Rey into giving her a piggyback for the rest of the duration). As such, no one was in the mood to deal with the skeleton they found seated in the captain's chair. "See I... huh... told you there were ghosts... oh god", Mangat sputtered while wiping his brow.

"How did they even get here?", Asked Nish from atop Rey's back.

"I don't know, but I'm not going to touch them", she replied, putting Nish back on the ground.

Terho, already realizing where this was going, swiftly put his finger on his nose. "Not me", he said.

"Can't you just force push it off the chair?", said Nish, who was now laying with her back flat on the floor.

"That seems disrespectful, don't you think", Rey asked rhetorically. "Also, get off the ground, it's dirty." Nish begrudgingly obeyed and moved onto a couch in the adjoining room.

"I wouldn't worry about it", Mangat added, beginning to catch his breath again. "I doubt this poor souls wish was to lie here, unmoving until they turned to bones and they longer still."

Rey ran her fingers over her eyebrows. "Fine, but someone else has to move them off the ship", she said, receiving half-hearted 'sures' and 'whatevers' as a reply.

Rey cringed and mumbled "sorry" as she used the force to guided the bones off the seat and into a pitiful pile in the corner. She then used the Falcon's call signal to send Poe a message asking where he was. The reply came back in seconds: "We are coming to you right as we speak. I take it that since you were even able to send this message means that you're okay. Listen, we won't long, so do you think you could open the hangar doors for us? Thanks." It took a bit for Rey to locate the button to open the ship's hangar, by the time she finally did, the Falcon and the captured transport ship (with Mangat's ship attached to it by a thin tether) were just moments behind.

"You can take off whenever you want, we're sitting snug over here", Poe said in his message once they within the hangar. Rey, with some help from Terho, initiated the start-up sequence. Machinery whirred, breathing life into the huge propulsion system that allowed the Beyblade to lurch itself from the ground in which it had long rested. Rey reverently gripped the hyperspace throttle; "time to let it rip", she said and pulled down hard.


	4. A Blue Hedgehog's Dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get personal on the Rebel's new ship, the Beyblade

In the desert/ I saw a creature, naked, bestial/ Who, squatting upon the ground,/ Held his heart in his hands/ And ate of it./ I said, "Is it good, friend?"/ "It is bitter-- bitter", he answered;/ "But I like it/ Because it is bitter,/ And because it is my heart.

\--Stephen Crane, In the Desert

Among the first things that was done once the Rebels had escaped from Ji-Yu was a concerted effort to dust the first floor of the Beyblade. This task alone took almost an entire day to complete. The time was well spent, however, as the cleaned Beyblade was exceptionally comfortable. The furnishing had initially been designed with in mind the ship's mission to carry a mass of Beyerian colonists a long distance for a long time, and Sonic happily found it reflected that. Simultaneously sturdy and soft, the old couches and chairs turned out to be very attractive to the weary worn travelers who they would now serve. So it was that the Rebels second day in the Beyblade was spent lounging.

But said lounging was not entirely without purpose. It turned out that there was yet another person that had been travelling in the Falcon along with Rey, Finn, Poe, and Chewie; that person was named Rose. This brought the headcount of the current Rebel squadron up to a respectable, flat ten. Among these people packed not so tightly packed together, very few of them actually knew all of the rest of their allies; many introductions were in order. Therefore the time spent relaxing was also partially spent getting to know one another. There were periods when the main lounge in use began to dangerously resemble a mixer.

It quickly became apparent that the enlisted mercenaries and the veteran Rebels would have some problems relating to each other. Rey and Finn had become closer to their new recruits after going into battle with them, but no such trust had been developed in Rose and Chewie. Even the generally gregarious Poe still seemed unsure as how to treat the newbies. So, slowly but surely, both groups drifted into their own sections of the ship, with Rey and Finn periodically floating in between the two. There was ample space, and each group was easily able to find quarters where they could be together while at the same time away from the other group. Sonic, who had already warmed up to Rey considerably, felt this divide acutely. He eventually decided, against his best judgement, to visit her by himself.

Sonic's first obstacle to accomplishing this came when, within moments of going into the other side of the ship, he ran into Rose. Already anxious as he furtively crossed through the empty halls and corridors, Sonic instinctively froze when he turned a corner and saw Rose walking toward him. She was alone, conducting an inspection of the ship's wiring, and stood at attention when she became of aware of Sonic's presence. Compact, with a round face, Rose astonishingly reminded Sonic of a very angry house sparrow he had once encountered.

"Hey", she said, Sonic detecting a fleeting shadow of disdain in her tone.

"Hey", he replied more cheerily, hoping to have mistakenly interpreted the nature of her inflection.

Rose tapped her leg impatiently, "you need something?", she asked.

"Actually, I was looking for Rey", Sonic said, figuring it wisest to give Rose no more reason be suspicious of him by concealing his intentions. "Do you know where she is at the moment?"

Rose jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, "three doors down after the end of this hallway." Sonic thanked her and smiled awkwardly. Rapidly becoming more uncomfortable, and not sure if he should press the exchange further, Sonic started to walk in the direction Rose had indicated.

"So you were a mercenary, right?", Rose said, stopping him in his tracks.

"In a sense I was, yes", Sonic replied.

"In the sense that you killed for money? That was what you were first hired for." Sonic winced at the reproach.

"True, but I didn't accept that job without knowing the target. Moreover, I was only accepted as a candidate after being screened by Rey, I imagine she told you that."

Rose scoffed. "She did; that doesn't automatically make you trustworthy, though." She turned to make eye contact with Sonic, "I just want to make sure you understand that there's no place for greed here, we take what we need, nothing more." Rose looked away, the line of her gaze shifting towards the end of the hall. "I heard how fast you were at the market; that's impressive, it could even be useful. For now, however, I suggest you tread lightly." Confidence shaken, and more than a little miffed, Sonic held to the common idiom while he walked away, that is, he decided it was better to say nothing at all.

Rey was exactly where Rose said she would be. Sonic came upon her as she was lying on a bed, concentrating closely on using the force to move a pillow up and down above her. Sonic knocked on the wall to get her attention. "Practice?", he ventured, assuming that the telekinesis she was displaying stemmed from the same ability that granted her telepathy. Rey let the pillow that was hanging in the air fall over her face and then pulled it off. "Nope, just killing time", she said, fluffing the pillow, "it's more fun than it looks."

"Sorry to interrupt, then", Sonic joked.

"No problem, no problem. So, what's up?"

"You told me that I could come and talk to you whenever I needed to; I've come to hold you to that generous offer", Sonic said, and realized by Rey's facial expression that his words had come across more serious than he had intended.

"Okay', Rey said, scrutinizing Sonic to see if his issue could be revealed by any physical manifestation or tells, "is there anything specific you want to discuss with me?"

Of course Sonic's real purpose in coming was to catch up with Rey, but as she asked him, he realized that he really did have a pertinent question to ask. "Yes, actually. I bumped into Rose on my way here and she seemed none to pleased with my presence on this ship. She especially maligned me for being a mercenary originally, which is technically true, but, as you know, also not the whole truth. She even told me to 'tread softly'; I mean, that's a little more hostile than necessary, don't you think?"

Rey sat up in the bed to show she was giving the issue her full attention. "It's obvious that there have been some trust issues between you recruits and certain older members of the Rebellion... mostly on their part. I don't think that behavior can be excused, however I do believe that it's important to remind you they have good reason to be skeptical. Just the same as I did, as did Finn, what's made the difference with us is that we have actually fought together with you guys." Rey quickly wet her lips with her tongue. "I know that it's safe for me to trust all of you, but even if I tell my friends that-- and I have-- that knowledge, no matter how much it should appeal to them logically, has no hope of replacing personal experience. What I'm trying to say is that, unfortunately, you're going to have to give, Rose, Chewie, and even Poe some time before they feel you can be relied upon, much less actually treat you with friendliness. Their lives are quite unstable already, the new dynamics you recruits represent makes them anxious. And for what it's worth, I am sorry Rose was so hostile towards you, she's dealing with... let's say personal problems.

"How do you mean?", Sonic asked, curiosity getting the best of him. Rey closed her eyes and frowned as she decided whether or not to disclose information about Rose's private life so blatantly. Rey suddenly got up and checked the hallways for signs of anyone who could be eavesdropping, returning to the bed when she had confirmed that there were not. "Okay, I'll dish you the fresh gossip, but only because I think it will help you to better emphasize with Rose's position. In addition, I expect you to keep this between you and me, got it?" Sonic nodded. "Good", Rey continued, "the truth of the matter is that Rose has been dealing with the fallout of a recent romantic rejection."

"Ah, I see", Sonic said, the pained look on his face evincing his understanding.

"Yeah, it gets worse. The person who rejected her was Finn; they were alone on a mission together and Rose misinterpreted his platonic affection for flirting. She even confessed to him after sacrificing herself during a critical battle-- it was very dramatic. The only problem is that Finn is gay. She didn't know that at the time. Finn had to wait for her to recover from her injuries before he could break it to her. Shortly thereafter he started to date Poe. Needless to say, Rose's self-esteem has been sitting in the garbage dump since then. Our work environment has also gotten extremely, extremely awkward where those three are involved."

Sonic stood in stunned horror. "Dear god, that sounds terrible. I mean, I'm glad to hear that Poe and Finn are together, even with my limited interaction with them I can tell they are right for each other, but that has got to be rough on Rose. What a truly unfortunate misinterpretation of character [looks into camera]."

"I can't even imagine how Rose would get that idea in her head, you know? Finn doesn't give out that kind of vibe, it's pretty obvious how he feels about a person. That might be a biased opinion, though; not everyone has the same level of emotional intelligence that I do", Rey said half jokingly.

"I know what you mean", Sonic replied.

"Anyway, I've tried to boosts Rose's morale and ease tension between her and Poe, but in actuality she's going to have to work things out on her own." Rey picked up the pillow again and began squishing it between her hands. "When I deal with these things it makes me appreciate how difficult it is bearing the responsibility of a leader", she said, "people look up to you to keep them strong, and because of that there isn't really anyone who you can reveal your own issues to."

Sonic sat down on the bed next to Rey. "What about me? I'm here and I'll listen to anything."

The skin between Rey's eyes bunched up subtly as she considered Sonic's offer. "This was all foisted onto me, that's all. I'm actually one of the least experienced members of the Rebellion if your looking at pure years. Even Rose has been doing this longer than me. But because I'm a Jedi, I have to be a paragon of order, a figure beyond the sensibilities of normal people. Not to say I'm bad at that role, I think I'm quite good at it.

"I saw that, yes", Sonic contributed.

"It is a whole lot of pressure, though. Not too long ago I was a impoverished scavenger. I hadn't left the planet, let alone gone to another star system. Power was an abstract concept to me, something only possessed by others. Now I'm practically leading the charge against the nascent dominant political force in the galaxy. A change like that gives you some serious whiplash." Rey sighed in frustration. "Sorry to dump all this on you, Sonic, but I needed to vent and got the sense you would relate. Also you're not really a coworker, per se."

"No, I get it, I do. You could consider me a sort of expert on upheaval in one's personal life; It's tough to beat being ripped from your home dimension. As such, I know how cathartic it can be to verbalize your problems, to put into words something that had only been felt before as a shifting, ambiguous frustration. Often, when a person is having problems transitioning into a new environment, as you are, the solution can be best found by looking into their past, that which they must use as a frame of reference for the new situation they find themselves in. If you like, you could tell me about how you lived before you were a 'jedi of the Rebellion'?"

Rey hesitated to reveal to Sonic her history, more than once opening her mouth to start, then closing it upon a second thought. After a while of this, she finally decided it was safe to confide in Sonic. "I spent the majority of my life on Jakku, a desert planet. I told you earlier that I was born in a desert climate, by which I meant Jakku, but that isn't actually true. I don't know where I was born. My parents sold me to a junk trader on Jakku when I was so young that I can now no longer remember their faces. I am an orphan, that fact caused me no end of pain as I was growing up. I knew I had been abandoned, that my parents considered me with such disregard that they would pawn me off for cash. That fact caused me to become so miserable that it became repressed within my subconscious and I functionally forgot it even happened. It was only recently that I came to terms with it again. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"So I was left on a foreign planet without any family, bound in service to a stranger. Luckily that stranger, Unkar Plutt as he was called, was concerned mainly with money, so he left me alone as long as I scavenged enough material. The bar for that wasn't too high and I always did. I was also not completely alone in my condition, there were other children who worked for Plutt. Not many, around seven myself included. The number fluctuated over the years. Each of them had lost their family in some way, been reduced from a child to a worker, just as I had. Naturally we came to recognize each other as family members of a sort. We lived alone in a hut not to far from Plutt's business, there was no supervision, no guards. We were a cheap investment and a loss wouldn't considerably hurt Plutt's bottom line, so I suppose he thought it simply wasn't worth the trouble to hire anyone to watch us. And escape wasn't realistically a problem, at that age none of knew how to pilot a ship, and the desert created a natural barrier, it would be suicide to go to the closest town on foot.

"So we passed our days searching through the remnants of crashed star destroyers and other ruined warships. You wouldn't believe how much salvageable material was just lying there on Jakku, no one else having the time or desire to sift through it. And not just technology, knowledge, as well, resided in those shattered weapons of war. There were fragments of archives, ships logs, journals, a wealth of information at our fingertips. And still all of it would have remained out of reach, were it not for Iris. She was the oldest at the time I got there. Pragmatic, responsible, strong, and most importantly, she was literate; Iris was closest we scrappers ever got to a parental figure, even if she was only a few years older than us. To me she was like a big sister. Now that's what I would call a born leader. Iris kept order, made sure we worked together, that none of us was left to fend for ourselves. Under her tutelage we slowly learned how to read, and on Jakku reading is a extremely valuable skill, one possessed only by a small portion of the general population. She never talked about her past, so I have no clue how Iris had become literate in the first place, but there is no doubt that she was.

"Through Iris we gained the one thing that could allow us to transcend our circumstance: education. For all the terror I've been told the Empire caused, I can at least say they kept thorough archives. What could not be found on the archives, I could supplement with the diverse information contained within any personal writings we came across, captain's journals and so forth. And just so you know, Imperial officers had quite the penchant for erotica." Rey coughed. "Those documents I read in private. Any time I had off from scavenging, which was often very little, I spent reading. On the scavenging excursions themselves I could exchange what I'd learned with the other kids, share stories and anecdotes of knowledge. I found moments of true happiness in that environment. I was able to see myself as a crucial part of a whole, as more than something to be thrown aside when convenient."

Rey was looking at the wall, her words increasingly appearing to Sonic as being spoken to herself. Rey could feel herself becoming wrapped in her memories, the recollections coming to her trance-like, as if at once telling and experiencing the events for the first time. She could feel the fresh sand brushing her skin, hear the voices of her childhood ringing her ears. Rey rubbed her eyes, and was back with Sonic. "My shard of peace could not last, however", she said, almost in a whisper. "The desert is a harsh place to live, and scavenging is dangerous enough alone. There were times people didn't come home. Sometimes we'd find the body, often we wouldn't. Either situation had its downsides, but when we did find the find we could give them a proper burial. Those times were when I appreciated Iris the most, she kept us strong through it all. But not even she went completely unaffected."

"As we got older, Plutt decided to stop purchasing children to be work in his service. We had already stripped the ruins of a good portion of the useful material; it wouldn't have been profitable for him to have any more of us. At the point when there were only four of us, the effects of accumulated loss began to manifest themselves in Iris. She could no longer stand risking herself for another's benefit. Her ambition grew as she aged, and so did her anger at being kept from fulfilling her potential. Plutt's chain had begun to chaff her skin. She never actively stated this, but I sensed it in her growing temper and detachment. She would spend more time away from us. I would often catch her looking at the stars with such desire that it frightened me. One night it must have been too much, so she stole one of his ships and flew away into those same stars. She didn't even give us any warning that she was leaving, I only learned she was gone the next day. Another person who abandoned me. Even now I wonder why she didn't bring us with her... why she didn't bring me."

Rey's eyes were reddening. Sonic could tell she was actively preventing herself from crying. He wanted to console her, but he knew that what she needed most at the moment was space to grapple with her issues. Rey swallowed her spit in a ploy to wrest control from her emotions. The noise was faintly disgusting (in the same instinctual way the word 'moist' is), but Sonic didn't say anything.

"The other two didn't take long to follow Iris's lead, leaving me completely alone. I was too cowardly to steal a ship myself, and so I thought escape beyond my reach. I festered in that desert for years, scrounging for anything I could sell to stay fed. I found some new texts hidden in spaces that were previously impossible to reach with my child's body, and I was therefore able to preserve my sanity. I often visited the graves of my friends-- not to be macabre, you understand-- I simply thought someone ought to keep them company.

"This went on until, by chance (though I like to think it was the will of The Force), I stumbled into Finn. He gave me the reason I needed to move on from that wretched planet. I find it kind of funny because, when I was first recruited, I actually had no solid reason to oppose the First Order... they were not then the cause of my suffering. I might have been just as willing to join them if the circumstances were different; I was searching for a purpose, that's all. But I'm glad I joined the Rebellion, my personal views align much more with them. Also the First Order is super lame. I mean, just look at their outfits. Completely ridiculous. What kind of a person wears their pants that high? A bunch of mopey punks with too much power and an unhealthy amount of self-loathing, that's what they are." Rey had recovered from her creeping paroxysm, and seemed to be enjoying her current diatribe on the First Order. Sonic was not sure what the pants comment was about, but he was happy to see her having fun, regardless.

"But isn't that good?", Sonic cautioned, believing it the time to re-engage Rey. "That you joined the rebellion, that is. From the way I see it, you were in pain because the ones you loved left you without even giving you a reason. It is only natural that you would blame yourself, even despite the fact it isn't your fault. Wouldn't becoming a valued member of the Rebellion help you see your worth?"

Rey smiled briefly and bitterly. "I thought that initially, as well", she said. "What's more, when I joined the Rebellion, I also learned that I could use the force. By all logic things should have gotten better for me; and they did, relatively speaking. I again have people I value, people who in turn value me as an individual. I have power I didn't dare even dream of when I was younger. But that comes with its own set of problems.

"I've been forced to face the extent of my weakness, Sonic. My ability to use the force could not save the countless victims of this conflict, and I'm not sure it will be enough to protect those I still have. So I keep training, hoping to strengthen myself enough to deflect any danger. Yet, even with this strength I have sacrificed so much for, I just keep losing. People continue to be taken away from me, and I don't think I can handle it anymore. I'm propelled by fear, fear that it will turn out like it did before: me alone in the desert." Rey clenched and unclenched her hands at her side. "Sometimes I could almost laugh at my life, how I let the past hold such a weight over my present."

"You're not alone there", Sonic said quietly. "Like a joke in poor taste; I know exactly what you mean." Rey looked at the floor soberly, her eyebrows lowered like a pained animal.

"You're not solely responsible for the lives of these people, Rey", Sonic went on. "It's true that you can work to keep your friends safe, but they aren't helpless, I'm sure you know that. It's okay to lean on their strength, as well. You're so fixated on not letting them down like Iris let you down. Your so obsessed with preserving the bonds you have at any cost, that you've begun to think like you're already alone." Rey sat up when she heard Sonic mention Iris. "You were the one who told me that Rebels looked out for each other; did you forget you, too, could be the recipient of that help? You can't keep blaming yourself for things outside of your control", Sonic muttered after a pause. "That burden cannot be borne without sacrificing the ideals that make you who you are." It was Sonic's turn to talk to himself.

Once finished, Rey and Sonic sat spent (emotional fatigue packs a punch, too), their steady breaths alternating in rhythm. Rey was internalizing the realization of the recurring effects of her trauma, and Sonic was ignobly (and ineffectively) trying to suppress the surfacing of his inner turmoil by way of daydreaming about chili dogs.

If only I could get my hands on a Rally's dog, he thought, ooh, or one of those Skyline Coneys. God, those were so delicious. The quick service industry gets a bad rap, but one cannot deny the appeal of ubiquity and consistency they present... And so on, until he was finally forced to admit to himself that the effort was in vain. He then allowed himself to thoroughly steep in the emotions that had arisen.

"Do you want to talk about something else", Sonic tentatively asked Rey, "I think I need a palate cleanser."

"That sounds good."

Sonic ran through their options of topics, eventually landing on an informational subject that he imagined would be innocuous enough. "This 'Force' that you keep bringing up, what is it?", he queried. "Because it isn't something i've ever come across before, and based on how you describe, it must be a potent power. Is it related to how you moved that pillow? Or what gives you telepathy? Both?"

"I'm sorry, I should have explained it earlier", Rey said with sympathy, aware that she had forgotten that Sonic did not share the same cultural knowledge she possessed. "Let's see, It's kinda hard to explain in words. To be honest I received only scant teaching on the subject, myself. It can sort of be understood as the fabric the ties everything together, I guess. I believe that's what the name means: it's the 'Force' that connects things. But there are aspects to it as well, light and dark. A person can tap into either side of the force depending on which they've trained in. I think the emotional and psychic balance of a person play a role in this as well. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, reminds me of a religion from my home universe, actually", Sonic said. "I think it was called Daoism. Anyway, I figure you use the light aspect?", Sonic asked playfully. "Or at least I hope you do."

Rey chuckled. "That's right."

"So how does one learn to use the Force? Could you teach me?"

"I don't think so", Rey asnwered tepidly. "I'm not entirely sure how a person becomes a force user. I think everyone has some level of natural affinity, at least that's what my old master implied." Rey said the word 'master' with hesitation, like she was preparing for someone to suddenly manifest and correct her. "Apparently I have a very strong natural affinity to the Force, but I hadn't used it in my entire life until I encountered another user, so I have reservations about the whole 'natural force user' concept."

Sonic scratched the hairs on his chin, his curiosity piquing ever further. "Could you tell me how you train? That way I might get a better idea of the inner workings of this system."

"Sure. I mostly train by meditating-- like I was when you first came to the Falcon. I sit and tap into the energy surrounding me, figuratively wrapping my fingers around the threads of the grand fabric. When I meditate, I try to lose myself in the Force, I... how can I say this? De-selfify? No... Deindividualize? Yeah, that works. I deindividualize when I meditate."

"Ego death, interesting", Sonic muttered to himself. He then addressed Rey directly, "So by understanding the psychic workings of reality, you can in turn learn how to manipulate it?"

Rey puckered her lips. "Possibly? It's more instinctual, like muscle memory. I don't make calculations when I want to move something, I just do it. And you can't forget about the personal component; you must always be attuned to your inner feelings, and more difficult tasks require a greater level of balance."

"Could you elaborate on what that's like?", Sonic asked, his intense stare testifying to his fascination.

"You're throwing me some hardballs here, but yeah, I can try. When I say 'maintaining a balance', what I fundamentally mean is that you have to be able to reconcile the positive and negative parts of yourself. It's not about suppressing emotions, but seeing yourself in your entirety. I believe the idea is that, by changing your perception of yourself as within, so can be changed the reality without. Where the dark side nourishes anger, the light acknowledges it and it's source, thereby preventing it from transforming into a consuming hatred. The best way of putting it is that the light side of the Force requires you to embrace your shadow."

"Well my shadow has a gun, so it would be a serious undertaking to try and embrace it", Sonic said.

Rey pondered Sonic's words before hazarding a reply. "A strange metaphor, but I think I know what you mean." It was not a metaphor. "Accepting one's self can be a messy affair; of course I even haven't done so completely. Total self-actualization is an ideal, you only need partial to use the force in a useful capacity, though that's hard in its own right."

"But the dark side doesn't follow the same rules?"

"No. The dark side is the power of rage and ambition, it relies on the user's devouring willpower. Users of the dark side also have slightly differing abilities. They can move people and objects like I can, even create plasma, but their psychic senses are dull in comparison. It is a cursed strength, practically parasitic in how it corrupts a person."

"Are they common, users of the dark side?"

"No, as a silver lining they are normally even rarer than jedi. However, there is at least one in the First Order: the supreme leader, Kylo Ren. That woman from Dozhel's, Ji-Yu, she is one of his disciples; the Knights of Ren they are called. She didn't couldn't use the force, I'm sure of that, but the rumor is that other members might be able to."

Sonic, worried that the track of the conversation would bring back Rey's anxiety for her friends safety, added, "Force users or not, we'll trounce all those weird emos. I'd like to see another one of those alleged knights who don't even wear armor try and do any damage while you're flaying their minds and I'm running circles around them."

Rey, understanding what Sonic was doing and appreciating the sentiment, gave him a resolute thumbs up.

The conversation fizzled out after that, and seeing as it was late by galactic standards, Sonic excused himself out in order to go to bed.

He did not go to sleep for some time. Lying on the mattress, Sonic stared up at the ceiling, too troubled to rest, letting himself be lulled by the faint humming of the ship; perfect white noise. Strands of memories and susurrations of emotions drifted planktonic in the sea of his mind. Sinking further into the semiotic, Sonic wondered if this was how Rey felt when she meditated.

The thought dragged him ever so slightly back to the realm of concrete thought. He was reminded of the painful history she had relayed to him, a history which resembled his own in the complexes that are resultant, resembled close enough to be uncomfortable. Rey had dealt with her pain honestly, faced it as befitting her title as a Jedi. It made the bottled emotions within him stir, demanding to be felt. The years of wandering were piled on thick in his mind, each bond he had formed in that time was now lost, everyone he had met were universes away. For all he knew they had forgotten him, for all he knew he was forgotten in his home and his journey would be for naught.

No, he thought, I'm too close now. I'll face the reality when it arrives, right now there is work to be done. He turned on his side, pulling the covers close, and he dreamed. He dreamed of home...


	5. Sometimes a Chili Dog is Just a Chili Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback action?! That's right, it's finally time to get into the backstory of Sonic--or at least my take on it.

It was a beautiful april day in Tokyo, the air was invigoratingly brisk and the sky was filled with large, puffy white clouds. The cherry trees were in blossom, making the atmosphere even livelier, and more aromatic. Amy and Sonic were on their week long vacation to Japan. The former of the two had suggested the trip, having always wanted to visit the island nation that she knew so much about in theory. Amy could speak the language almost as fluently as a native, and had even minored in Japanese culture when she was in college. She also unabashedly loved anime and manga; one could call her weeaboo, were it not for the fact that her knowledge ran so deep. She personally preferred the term 'Japanophile'; it sounded more dignified to her than the alternative, if only a little.

Sonic, contrastingly, was by no means as well versed as Amy in Japanese culture, but he was enjoying himself too. The country attracted him on an instinctual level; he felt an innate attraction to it for some reason. He had also lived with Amy long enough to unconsciously absorb some of her interests osmosis-like.

They were picnicing at the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, a lovely park in the traditional Japanese style. The wind blew pink petals off the trees and caused miniature waves in the crystal water.

They had just come from their visit to Shibuya, a stop that Amy had declared mandatory. She had spent hours pulling Sonic with her into the shops along Nakano Broadway, an area known for the way it appealed to otakus. Amy was so enamored with the sights and products available, that the excursion ended up taking an excess of three hours.

Not that it bothered Sonic, Amy was beyond happy, and so he was as well. After they were done in Shibuya, they took the train to Shinjuku where they purchased supplies at a local grocery store so they could take lunch in the park.

There they sat on a blanket with food in hand, beside their haul from Shibuya. They had several bags filled with blu-rays of anime, rare and expensive figurines, as well as various volumes of manga. Amy was engrossed in reading a volume of Berserk, flipping through pages with one hand and using the other to gingerly take bites of her oni-giri. Sonic was satisfied with watching her while eating his takoyaki (he was not totally down with the whole octopus ball thing, but as they say, 'when in Rome, do as the Romans'). He would normally be itching to move around and get something done, but when he was with Amy, Sonic felt he could be at peace where he was.

His love for Amy eclipsed all worries and restlessness, she had the same effect on him as a cup of warm coco on a frigid night, or the patter of ran outside during a evening spent reading at home. She was pragmatic in thought, but carried a flame of optimism that flared up and down, yet was never extinguished. Prone to rumination, she had also developed trenchant wisdom, giving her the air of a person who has taken all that the world has thrown at them, and learned the value of the scars they were left with; the kind of person who knows why to drink their own tears. The effect she had on Sonic can only be suitably translated into words* as 'uwu'.

They had come into each other's lives when they were both in difficult periods. At that time the world was still at a loss as to what to do with the existence of new beings created by science such as them. They had met while working together in a special interpol team created to apprehend the international terrorist, Dr. Eggman, and quickly hit it off. They were a complimentary couple, Sonic soothed by her groundedness, and Amy appreciating his boundless energy, as well as his shy sincerity in intimate conversation. They communicated well, and their asexuality in some ways opened up their relationship to true companionate love. Years had past since Dr. Eggman's arrest, and they had now become a completed dyad.

It was with this background that they had come to decide to take a trip to Japan, and how it was that they were able to enjoy this halcyon picnic. "We've really lucked out on the weather so far", Amy said, putting down her volume of manga. She lay down on the blanket, "Just look at these clouds", she said, gesturing to the sky. "They're so hyper-real you'd think they were painted on by Rembrandt."

"Maybe they were", Sonic quipped, "maybe he's up in heaven and been conscripted by God to work on modeling clouds all day."

Amy giggled softly. "That makes sense, actually. Someone's got to do it, and the angels are probably too busy working miracles and slaying demons. I bet there is a whole department in heaven for cloud creation, and that's where all the virtuous artists go when they die. It's a shame too, because they put so much effort into it, but their work rarely gets any attention, and often it gets ruined by those darn, tasteless airplane pilots-- that always gets them worked up at the water cooler." Amy laughed, amused by her own joke. She continued to scan the horizon, her eyes soon catching onto a particular formation. "How about that one over there that looks like a chubby lizard?", she said, pointing to it. "Who did that one, then?"

Sonic paused to consider the question. "Hmm, well since it's heaven, I imagine there have to be mandated breaks, so every once in a while they have to dig into the interns' sketchbooks for designs."

"Ah, I see", Amy exclaimed in mock epiphany, "And that's also why you get those flat, overcasts skys."

"No, that's just the modern artists taking their turn."

Amy laughed so hard she spit out a piece of rice off of onigiri she was eating. From that point they kept looking at the clouds and giving their interpretations of the shapes. Amy saw one that resembled a swan, Sonic found one that he thought looked like a sumo wrestler, and another that they both agreed held a remarkable similarity to Mikhail Gorbachev. They also disagreed over the classification of a crescent shaped one that Amy called a banana, and sonic declared was clearly a chili dog. This prompted Amy to go on a playful tangent about how odd his obsession with chili dogs was, and that if she didn't know any better she might think it was freudian in nature, though why in that model the distinction had to be made between chili dogs and hot dogs in general, she did not know. Sonic did not dignify that with a response.

"It is funny though", Amy said more seriously, "that we can ascribe such meaning onto something like the shape of clouds."

Sonic shrugged, "I don't know, that's what the brains of intelligent creatures have evolved to do, right? Take in information and find the patterns within it."

Amy sighed. "Except when there isn't a pattern to be found, we have to make one up. We search for meaning in every little thing, very rarely can we muster the strength to face ambiguity."

"I don't think that's a strictly inappropriate philosophy", Sonic said while rubbing his chin. "I doubt that anyone could live well without at least creating some meaning for themselves."

A few cherry blossoms petals drifted onto the blanket. Amy picked one up and rolled it around in her fingers. "I'm not so sure", she said softly. "In my eyes the world is much more beautiful when you accept things as they are rather than what you would like them to be; when you take the poetics out of it, so to speak."

Sonic made a quizzical face, "How do you mean?"

Amy laughed in a frustrated sort of way, upset at the difficulty of articulating her thoughts. "I suppose what I'm getting at is that too many comforting stories can be bad for your health. We don't really understand the nature of reality, and that's okay. What's not okay is to ignore the facts we do have, and instead construct a rigid narrative that suits your preference."

Sonic looked up a the clouds as he gathered his thoughts. "I mostly agree with you, but what's so wrong with a little storyweaving? Existentialism never hurt anybody... except maybe in existential crises, but in my opinion those don't count. "

Amy shook her head slowly. "It's not that creativity is a bad way to engage with the world-- in fact, I think it can help you get closer to a possible truth through the different perspectives you assume-- the issue arises when imagination becomes delusion and internal desire overshadows the empirical."

"So you can have your cake and eat it too?"

"More like you can keep a satisfactory amount of cake as long as you don't overindulge."

Sonic closed his eyes and listened to the other voices in the park and the distant sounds of cars. A flock of crows cawed in the trees above. Amy's breathe was barely audible. He tried to picture the scene without him in it, it was easier than he expected, and that unnerved him. "This cake talk has gotten me wanting a dessert", he said, standing up. "What would you say to looking for a patisserie or something?", he asked Amy.

She got up and started stretching. "Make it a maid cafe and I'm in."

Sonic woke from the dream slowly, with reluctance. It was still dark, but that didn't convey to him anything about how long he had sleep, it was always dark on the Beyblade when the artificial lights were off. He checked the onboard time and found it was ten hours after he had went to bed. His muscles were a little sore and his head was fuzzy.

He thought it strange that his mind has chosen to show him the memory it did, undistorted no less. A pleasant memory, no doubt, but also one of little consequence; not a formative moment in his past life or relationship with Amy (those two being harder to distinguish lately). However, it did make him sad. Sonic was recently so wrapped up with the issues of the present that he had been able to relegate his past to the role of abstract motivator. It was hard to be viscerally faced with the reality of its existence. The dream was a reminder that his home was still out there and that it was moving along without him, that it had been all this time. He knew many things had surely changed since he left, but that was something he didn't want to think about; it wasn't a helpful line of thought.

So Sonic cracked his joints to fully wake himself up, and he walked out of his room in order to find something to distract himself. He decided that being around people would be the best way to do that, and headed off towards the crew lounge area that had become the de facto meeting center of the new recruits.

It was populated, as expected. Terho and Nish were sitting across from each other playing an abstruse holo-game resembling chess. Tyr was present also, squatting by the table, watching the board carefully. It was a close game, Nish and Terho were staring at each other with heated intensity. Discreet beads of sweat had developed on both of their foreheads. Neither was willing to give any ground to the other.

Only Tyr noticed when Sonic walked into the room. She gave him a silent nod of recognition, and then quickly returned her eyes to the board. The tension in the air was palpable; Sonic, too afraid that he might disturb either players concentration, decided to say nothing and watch things unfold from a sofa some distance away.

"It's no use hiding it, Terho", Nish said ominously, "I can taste your fear. You may have been able to get this far with that textbook playing style, but it will avail you no longer. The simple memorization of stratagems can ultimately stand no chance against the fluid adaptability I possess. You've fought well; give up now and you can lose with some dignity."

Terho rubbed the moisture from his brow. He looked on the verge of hyperventilating. Suddenly he slapped his cheeks, the resulting smack caused Sonic to jump in his seat. "No... never. A chance is a chance, and I refuse to throw that away out of cowardice', he said, his eyes having gained the sharp clarity of determination.

Nish bared her teeth and hissed at him, it was the most animated Sonic had ever seen her. "So be it, you can't say I didn't try to be merciful." The game went on and Terho lost piece after piece, and each time Nish's smile became more menacing. Twenty minutes after Sonic began observing, Nish finally made her final move, placing a piece down to complete a formation in the shape of a pentagram. A pitch black shadow then spread across the board, swallowing up all of Terho's pieces. When it was done, the holographics all vanished except for a red "game over" that was left displayed in the air.

Terho's upper body collapsed onto the table in despair. Tyr rubbed his shoulders to try and soothe him; it was not effective. Nish had her fists raised over her head and was laughing psychotically. She was about to reach the pitch of her victory gloat when she saw Sonic in the corner, causing her to stop mid-cackle. "Hello, Sonic", she said as if nothing had happened, her fists still in the air. "How long have you been there?"

"Some odd twenty minutes", Sonic flatly responded.

"Hmm, so you saw me trounce Terho. Good, I think a win like that deserves more witnesses."

"Hi", Terho said, voice distorted by the the table his face was pressed against.

Nish ignored him and went over to Sonic. "It's good that you've finally got up, you were in that bed so long it made me wonder if my habits had started to rub off on you. Poe visited while you were asleep, he told us that we were scheduled to arrive at the Rebel HQ in three hours." She looked at the clock on the wall and was clearly surprised by how much time had elapsed. "I guess that means our current ETA is around fifteen minutes."

"Really?", said Terho, startled from his depressive funk. "Then we should go to the observation room if we want to see the landing. I don't know about you, but I'm curious as to how this base has been kept secret for as long as it has."

"Agreed", Nish assented, "time to head off."

The observation room was one of the few sections of the ship other than the cockpit that had a window (an accoutrement widely considered impractical for deep space), and had the largest one at that. The reinforced glass took up the rooms entire wall space on the outward facing side. A multitude of astronomical devices rested on shelves, the larger ones standing on tripods. The whole ship's crew except for Rose and Chewie, who were piloting, was assembled there to view the landing. They had already come out of hyperspace and were crawling forward on standard propulsion. Distant stars could be seen outside. Rey was looking through the window with a sumptuously carved, wooden telescope. "Pay attention everyone", she announced, "we're getting close."

Almost immediately after she said this, a bright light started shining through the corner of the glass. The room inside was harshly illuminated, causing Sonic to shield his eyes before he was able to adjust. They inched forward and gradually the source of the light became discernable as twin streams of energy emitting from a single point.

"Is that a quasar?", Mangat asked in awe.

"That it is", Poe said, a large smile spreading across his face. "A cosmic wonder, rare and beautiful."

Sonic stood mesmerized by the sublime work of nature, a work of such scale to seem beyond the triflings of mortals. It's rainbow light would burn eons past his own life, and its insatiable core billions of years more. It was such a thing as to forcefully evoke that feeling of deindividualization spoke of by Rey.

"But we didn't choose to locate our secret base near it simply for the aesthetic pleasure", Rey said, "the presence of the quasar also disrupts any scanners. You can only pilot by sight in this area, and that makes it an ideal place to hide out. Pretty ingenious, no?"

"You've certainly got me impressed", responded Mangat. "I can't even see the base. It couldn't be close to the quasar, could it?"

"That would be suicidal. No, we'll be coming up on the actual planet soon. I just wanted to give you all a chance to soak in the sights-- as well as myself, this isn't something you get to see everyday."

They continued floating on until the quasar was out of their line of vision, and it was soon replaced by a blue orb that Finn identified as the new seat of the Rebellion, Hydrogon. He went on to explain that it had been a colony of the now extinct Gungan race. The largest portion of the planet was covered in ocean, but there was a suitable amount of land mass left to serve the Rebellions purposes. After all, there were only so many of them to begin with.

They entered into the atmosphere slowly, the Beyblade's ventral thrusters firing powerfully to resist the regained gravity. Passing into the cloud layer, they met with one the storms that oft raged across the planet. Blue bolts of lightning arced their way down to the surface from the other side of the glass.

The ship descended further until it practically skidded across the tumultuous waters that made up most of the surface. Soon a large, rocky island came into sight. Rey turned to address Sonic and the rest of the recruits. "Alright, this is it, we're about to arrive at the current Rebel headquarters. Here we'll be receiving a new assignment from my superiors, as such I expect you to be on your best behavior. Keep it formal, we're still technically a military organization and therefore you will follow those rules." Rey checked to make sure they were all listening. "Got it?" She got various affirmations from the recruits.

They landed on the coast of the island, water lapping against the bottom hull of the ship. Rey and Poe left to go coordinate with Rose and Chewie in the cockpit so that they could send out a encrypted message relaying their landing to HQ. Finn further explained the history of the island while they waited for a response. According to him, the island housed a large outpost that was used by Gungans before they all died from simultaneously forgetting how to breathe. The Rebellion had since commandeered the outpost and, after clearing out all the Gungan bones, established a control center from which the highest officers of the organization could formulate a plan of attack.

"Though, now that we've brought the Beyblade, operations will likely be transferred here", he said.

"Hold on a second", interjected Sonic, "I don't want to step out of line here, but I thought you guys were the Rebellion's beating heart, why would anyone else deserve superiority over you?"

Finn turned to look a the storm outside and frowned. "No, I could see how that might be confusing. It's true that Rey, Poe, and myself do most of the wetwork; so in that sense we are the ones you would expect to be the leaders. However, there are those that technically outrank us." Finn started nervously biting at a fingernail. "This is starting to sound like complaining and that's not the impression I want to give you. Let me clarify: we-- the members of the Rebellion you have seen so far-- are ourselves relatively new to the cause. There is a class of Rebel with much greater wisdom and practical experience than us. They are highly respected individuals within the Rebellion... I greatly respect them... but they are no longer soldiers in the traditional sense. It would stupid to ask them to put their boots back on the ground, though I'm sure they'd do so happily. Their role is different; if we are the heart and the fists, then they are the brains. They work hard leveraging their experience to give the Rebellion the technical and strategic support it needs. And they are not in any way dogmatic, they listen to the suggestions of the newer generation, offering guidance and allowing for autonomy. Their willingness to listen was what gave our current plan life; if you remember, acquiring the Beyblade was my idea in the first place. But I'm sure you'll see all of this once you meet them."

"I also have a question", Mangat said, his arm raised high.

Finn smiled. "Go ahead"

"You said operations might be moved here. What is the likelihood of that happening? And if so, how many people are we talking about? I kind of like having this whole place to ourselves."

"No formal announcement has been made; I'm going off on more of an personal prediction. Even if it did happen, the ship wouldn't be anywhere near crowded. Unfortunately Rey wasn't lying when she said we were in serious need of new recruits."

The notion that their homey little ship might soon be bustling was apparently as unpalatable to the rest of Sonic's colleagues as it was to Mangat, for they were noticeably more at ease after hearing Finn's answer. Mercenary life traditionally fosters bonds within smaller units, and rarely involves an overarching institution, so it was only natural for them to not immediately warm up to the new structure. As Sonic was concerned in the issue, he was already too busy with the most recent interpersonal developments to be excited about grappling with the proposition of a whole new set of relationships.

Before any more questions could be posed, Poe came down to tell them that they had been cleared by HQ. They met with the rest of the group by the elevator and broke out into a sprint once they were outside in the pouring rain. The storm which was so transfixing while they were inside, now became a hazardous downpour that drenched them mercilessly. Peals of thunder roared out in the sky while their feet slipped in the mud, puddles, and muddy puddles. The fringes in the back of Sonic's hair got soaked and started clinging to his back in a very gross manner. They had all become soggy and shivering messes by the time they arrived at the old outpost. Sonic and Chewie were especially affected, the rain and their fur making an unfortunate combination. Suffice it to say, the smell was not great (imagine a bernese mountain dog that just had a dip in a lake). The outpost was made of stone and mortar, a mostly inconspicuous building in the low light, and showed clear signs of erosion. There were no turrets or towers, in fact the outpost appeared to have only a single above ground floor.

The sentries posted at the entrance approached Rey with caution, not able to immediately identify her through the torrential downpour. They were subsequently brought inside and given some, mostly, clean cloth to use as towels, as well as new sets of clothes in close to similar sizes to the originals. The interior was sparsely decorated, as one might expect, but there were some "fascinating" portraits left of the previous inhabitants-- they made Sonic glad the offending race was extinct.

"Is it always like this here?", Nish asked while wringing the water out of her hair.

"Yes, mostly", Rey replied, waving her lightsaber near Chewie's fur in an attempt to dry it using the residual heat.

"What a miserable planet."

"I can't deny that. I don't think terrestrial species were ever really meant to inhabit it, but it is highly convenient as a secret base."

"I kind of like it, reminds me of home a little. Less swampy, though.", Mangar added with a shrug. 

After drying off, they started moving further into the center of the building towards where the officers were located, passing hurried analysts along the way. Moving inwards they encountered newer pieces of technology that had clearly been brought in and denser groups of people, eventually converging on a single hub swarming with activity. People ran in and out, passing and receiving papers from absorbed typists sitting at the latest computers. Others stood and argued over large screens made of transparent glass that displayed various charts as well as other data. And amongst it all a single figure stood out, resolute, with a strong authoritative air about them. She turned when they entered the room, directing a charming smile their way.

"It's so nice to see you again", she said, approaching, "back from another success, wonderful work you five. And welcome to the central nervous system of our organization, you new recruits. I'm happy you have decided to side with us, because you seem like quite the ferocious bunch." She pointed at Tyr. "You especially." In response, Tyr straightened her back in a self satisfied sort of way.

Rey bowed to the figure sheepishly, almost as if still starstruck in their presence, and then addressed the recruits. "This is General Organa, leader of the Rebellion", she said reverentially.

Leia chuckled and waved her hand. "Please, I prefer the title 'princess'; it makes me feel like I'm keeping the spirit of my people alive...", she said, a shadow briefly passing across her eyes. "But that's a sad story and this is a happy occasion. Now come, there are more introductions to be done before we can get to the debriefing."

She motioned them to follow her past the bustle and into another room closed off in the back. Two things immediately stood out to Sonic when the door was opened; the first was a wizened wood desk that he found very distinguished, and the second was the fish person standing around with a bucket in his hands, a bucket that had a military jacket draped around it.

"These are two other members of the leadership", Leia said as she sat down in a chair by the desk, "Captain Calamari, son of the venerated admiral Ackbar--may he rest in peace-- and admiral Mrisada."

Mangat inched toward Captain Calamari and looked skeptically at the object in his hands. "Sorry, but is admiral Mrisada a bucket?", he asked. Right as his face began to peer over the edge of the bucket, a blue ooze shot out in short pillar, causing Mangat to jump back in fright. A disturbingly detailed, and very elegant face began to form in the pillar of ooze. "No, the bucket is merely my current receptacle", it said.

"Oh, I didn't mean to offend", said a flustered Mangat.

"It's okay. I normally have a host, you see, but my last one expired recently and I have yet to find a replacement", Mrisada said with a lilting voice, surprisingly clear for having come from a creature of ooze with no clear organs or any visible bone structure. "It's nice to meet you all", they continued. "Likewise", Calamari added, bowing his head slightly.

Leia cleared her throat to refocus the group's attention. "Yes, we have been looking for a suitable species for Mirsada to bond with, preferably a non-sentient one, for their bond is a parasitic one."

"Indeed", Mrisada said, "there aren't any lower animals on this planet except fish, and those clearly aren't workable-- no offense, Captain. Oh, if only the gungans were still around."

Leia folded her fingers together on the desk. "That said, I think we should move onto the central topic of this meeting". Her eyes moved to meet Rey's. "Would you please give us a full report of your last mission, including the performance of our new recruits".

Rey then proceeded to detail how they had come across Sonic and the others at an interview they held for a job, propositioned them to join the cause after said job was completed, and brought them along to the Tech Market, where they successfully purchased their new fleet ship. She went on to explain their encounter with a Knight of Ren and how well the recruits had handled the situation. Poe and Finn, having since come to a consensus on the matter, contributed their own comments about the recruits; something which was quite heartening to Sonic. Chewie even growled approvingly. Rose, however, remained silent throughout.

The officers of the Rebellion, too, were silent as they listened to Rey, and were silent longer in order to internalize the information they heard. Finally, Leia broke the quiet. "You all should be proud of yourselves, through your actions the Rebellion has taken its first steps toward retaliation, and more importantly, toward retribution."

"And you new recruits should be commended as well", Calamari said. "From what we heard you acted bravely in the face of a danger as great as a Knight of Ren; that is not something oft seen in any troop, let alone a new recruit."

"I second that", said Mrisada from their bucket, "it would seem your combat experience will make you valuable assets in the battles to come. You have more than earned your place amongst our ranks." Mrisada's statement elicited a scowl from Rose which she barely hid.

"But now that we have secured this win", Leia said, leaning forward, "we must keep the momentum rolling lest it dissipate entirely; as such I have another assignment for you all. In fact, I have two. The first is a raid on the mining planet of Golpert, it will be a large scale operation and, Rey, I ask that you lead it. The second is smaller and more sensitive, focusing on the recovery of a high value target. As it is, we have just in the past day learned that our greatest spy has been apprehended by the First Order and needs to be extracted."

"Wait, 'greatest spy'?", Rey interjected, "you don't mean..."

Leia sighed regretfully, "Porg... I'm afraid so."

"Well, in that case I'm going on the other mission", Rey scoffed.

"I'm sorry, but we simply can't spare you", said Calamari. "We need a strong front line to break through their defenses and you're the only one we can trust will fill that requirement."

"Why can't we postpone the raid? If he's in trouble I'd like to be there to help him", Rey entreated.

Leia shook her head. "I know, but there isn't enough time. In a couple of days the First Order will be shipping out, and they'll take with them all of the resources accumulated during their stay." Leia got up and put her hand on Rey's shoulder. "I can see how this could be hard to agree to, but you aren't the only one who can help Porg. Have faith in your colleagues."

Then something clicked in Rey's mind, some association was made, and she ceased in her protest. "Fine", she said resignedly. Leia patted her shoulder and stepped back. "I'll leave the team selection up to you", she said. "Mrisada will give you the coordinates as well as any other pertinent information. And with that I think we have everything wrapped up."

"General Organa?", Finn said, stepping forward. "We were wondering if you and the other officers would be joining us on the new ship."

"That's a good question", Leia said, looking to the other officers for their reactions. "But to be honest, we haven't really come to a decision on it. It would be ideal if all of our top members were in the same place, but it would take a good deal of time to transfer all of the equipment from here onto the ship. For now we were thinking that we'd send over a minimal number of personnel as well as have Mrisada go onboard, seeing as they could benefit the most from leaving this planet. That way the next few missions could also serve as test trials for the potential of completely mobile operations. Does that sound suitable?" A grumbling of agreement from those present was heard. "Good, we'll send over the new staff within the hour. Now, before you go, could someone take Mrisada with them back to the ship?"

It was still storming when they got outside and so they set off through the rain again, but this time they had procured some waterproof jackets. Chewie, who had elected to carry Mrisada, had a large tarp wrapped around him that he had found on the ground. They returned to the ship cold, but in good spirits-- all except for Rey, who was still fretting over the news of her friend's capture. As they left the elevator, she suddenly pulled Sonic aside and asked him to join the rescue party. "It would make me feel alot better if you were there", she said. "You know how important this is to me, and because of that I think I can rely on you better than anyone else here."

"I don't know if I'm the best person for the job", Sonic dithered, "stealth has never been my expertise; in fact, I was hot headed most of my life."

"Please", she said in the measured tone not imploringly, but more akin to an appeal. The kind of appeal one makes to a person with whom they know it will resonate. And when faced with such an appeal, Sonic could not so cruelly deny it. "If that's what you want, then of course I will", he said. And then, with more determination, "you can rely on me."

A sanguine smile appeared on Rey's face. "I know. Thank you." She began to walk away, but was stopped in her tracks as Sonic called out to her again. "Um, Rey... I was wondering if you told General Organa about where I really came from. Because she seemed a suitably high authority and when we saw her, I didn't get the sense that she did."

"She doesn't know', Rey said without turning around. "I didn't tell her. It can't hurt to keep that our secret for the time being. Unless you want to be completely transparent with her?"

"No, that would only distract from what we need to do. And, Rey? I want you to know that I do appreciate you keeping this under wraps."

Rey made the 'o.k' sign. "No problem, we watch out for each, right?" And then she left Sonic to prepare for the forthcoming new staff. He stood in the same spot for a while, stood there thinking. A notion occurred to him that had not occurred to him in all of other realities that he had visited: That he could potentially stay in this universe. It was an unpleasant thought to have, though not because he believed it would be terrible to live there, but because it shook the foundation he had laid for himself when he had first found himself in his predicament. He had promised himself that he would go home no matter what, and now that promise appeared less crucial than it did then, and that frightened him. The gulf between himself and the home he remembered opened up once again. So much time had passed, it may now be as foreign to him as any other reality. At least in this dimension I know there are those who still value me. Sonic slapped his cheeks so hard they reddened, banishing the idea. No, that's too cruel a thought to bear. If any probability remains that there is someone is waiting for me-- that Amy is waiting for me-- then I owe it to them to return. I can uphold my responsibilities to both the Rebellion and those at home. Not wanting to pursue the line of thought any longer for fear of risking a depressive episode, Sonic made a willful effort to ground himself back in the present, and went to rejoin the team.

The new staff arrived on time a little later, and brought with them a surfeit of equipment. Chewie and Rey assisted with moving the heavier pieces, the latter using the Force and the former rely on innate strength. Terho and Rose also offered to help set things up. Everyone else, including Sonic, guided the staff through the ship, giving an impromptu tour of sorts that covered the basic essentials such as the locations of the elevators and mess halls. When all was done, the arrivals were snugly settled into the second deck, where they could be undisturbed and carry on with their intelligence operations. At this point a mutual agreement had also been made between Chewie and Mrisada that he would become their personal handler for the foreseeable future, and until a new host could be found (it was an odd pair, but they both enjoyed the others company-- Chewie especially, as he was still feeling echoes of Hans death and Mrisada was a voluble individual who kept his mind on other subjects).

The staff were busy and primarily kept to themselves, occasionally coming up to consult with Mrisada or Rey. And so it was quickly discovered that the perceived change would be only a minor one where the inhabitants of the top deck were concerned. Sonic even felt the presence of the people below them made the ship feel livelier, more like he imagined a fleet ship should.

But there was not long to reflect on this, for the new assignments loomed close, and it was soon decided that Tyr and Mangat would comprise the remaining two members of the rescue team. As there were only three of them, they were given permission from Rey to take the Falcon, though only on the condition that Mangat piloted (he was sternly warned not to get it dented). They packed their supplies, said goodbyes, made well wishes, and set off across the firmament to fulfill their duty.


	6. Churning the Embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonic and the gang frees a curious high-value target from a First Order prison, and that turns out to be the easy part; escaping the planet will prove more challenging.

Bruised and deflated, Ji-Yu waited to be received by the Supreme Leader. She stood in an empty antechamber with no seating, constructed of black metal and filled with their crimson banner. In front of her a tall, gilded set of doors was set ominously into the wall. If Linkin Park had existed in this reality, it would surely have been playing as background ambiance. Or maybe some My Chemical Romance. However, as this was not the case, a gramophone was instead resting on a table alone at the other side of the chamber. It played what most closely resembled an android moaning inconsolably over the loss of its pet spider. Whatever it was, Ji-Yu was sure it was not music.

She was ill at ease for her coming reception with the Supreme Leader, and still entirely incensed at her own failure. The grating noise echoing throughout the room did not make her feel any better. Just as the 'song' was reaching a crescendo, the large doors slid open on their own, indicating to Ji-Yu that her time had come. She stretched her sore back and went passed the now unobstructed threshold.

The massive hall that she entered into was made of a similar material as the antechamber, and had a silk-thin, red carpet leading from the entrance to the foot of a throne on the far side. Of a glossy, obsidian-like black, the throne was set against a glass wall that revealed the stretching cosmos. Upon this wretched seat brooded one whose hands had felt the the warm blood of patricide. His eyes shining in the gloom of candle light, Kylo Ren carefully sipped Gnidarian Chai from a Death Star shaped novelty mug. Three other individuals stood about him unmoving and cloaked in partial darkness.

"Supreme Leader", Ji-Yu said, kneeling on the carpet, "I have come as per your request."

Kylo took another sip of his drink, audible in the unnatural silence. "You may rise." She did so. Kylo rested his mug on the arm of the throne. "Ji-Yu, my faithful servant, my friend", he announced, "you have let me down." She swallowed, but dared not interrupt. "You told me that you would remove the burr that is the Rebellion, cut off the head of the snake, and that you could do it alone. Back then I believed you, after all I had trained you myself so I had every reason to. Now I can see that was foolish. You are not enough, not nearly enough. " Ji-Yu held in her protest. Kylo sensed the rage brimming inside her and chuckled. "Don't get me wrong, you're not lacking in spirit, but we underestimated that women. She grows too quickly, I knew that, and yet I believed a single member of my order would suffice. I guess it must have been spite." Kylo leaned his head back and rubbed his face with his hands. "However, this recent incident has opened my eyes." He took on a graver tone. "We were humiliated. Humiliated by those vermin! I will not let that stand!" Kylo banged his fists on the arms of the throne, causing drops of chai to spill. Seeing this, he exhaled loudly through his nose and fell back into the throne. "If you have anything to say on the matter, say it now", he said softly.

"No, you are right. My actions were full of hubris, I was unprepared and I lost as a result. But, Kylo, if I could ask anything of you: don't take me off this assignment completely. I will not be caught off guard the next time, and that petulant girl will be made to suffer. Please, allow me to prove my conviction."

Kylo scratched his chin while he thought. "Fine, but know that you, as an individual, will not be alloted the bulk of the resources for this. That will go your two comrades", he said, motioning to the figures standing in the shadow to step forward. One was a bald, overbearing mass of muscle, who wore heavy army similar in design to that of the troopers, and had an impertinent grin affixed to his face. The other, wearing a sensible shirt and trousers, was of no clear gender, had well manicured black nails, and stiff, raven hair that nearly covered their droopy eyes. "Don't worry, big sis, we'll clear up this mess of yours", said the first. Ji-Yu gritted her teeth, she hated when he called her that, they were not siblings, and how he said it always felt so patronizing.

"You may collaborate with them if you wish", Kylo continued, "but I imagine your pride will prevent you from doing so." Ji-Yu turned her eyes from his gaze. "That is alright. You will either lose again, and learn your lesson for good, or you will be victorious and show me that the first failure was an unfortunate mistake. If it makes any difference, I am hoping for the second outcome."

Ji-Yu kneeled on the carpet again. "Thank you, Supreme Leader. I will not let this chance go to waste. The next time you see me, I will have cut down the Rebellion's last hope."

"Cool", Kylo said, drawing the word out, evidently bored with the conversation. "You may go."

Ji-Yu got up, thanked him again, and walked back down the carpet. The Jedi-- Rey had shamed her, and that was an act that could not go unpunished. No, she would be brought low, and Ji-Yu would relish doing it. All that needed to be done now was to formulate a plan of attack... well, that and find her. The last thing she heard as she left to make preparations, was her master and Supreme Leader calling for Huxley to bring him a bagel.

The Falcon went hastily across the stars, the passengers it carried idly preparing for their coming mission. There wasn't much else to do as they were carried through hyperspace. They were each anxious at the gravity of their assignment, one which could prove critical for the survival of the Rebellion, and that Sonic knew held an immense emotional weight for Rey. Mangat tried to break the tension by telling stories of his travels, stories that Sonic could not help but believe were somewhat embellished; nevertheless, they did help a little (Mangat actually proved to be a competent storyteller who did not shy from including elements of the mundane into his otherwise fantastical tales, giving them a sense of unearned factuality). Tyr, on the other hand, took it upon herself to dole out tips for killing silently. The personal anecdotes she included to illustrate her point, which were frighteningly believable, ended up serving as an interesting complement to Mangat's stories. Both Tyr and Mangat seemingly appreciated having Sonic as their captive audience, because they plied him with so much conversation that, before he knew it, they were already about to land at their destination.

The First Order only had a single facility on the planet, so luckily they had not thought it necessary to invest in a broad detection system of the kind that could have alerted them to the Falcon's arrival. Thus the Rebels set down in a clearing relatively close to the prison in which their target was being held. Before they disembarked, Sonic remembered to ask Tyr if she had any spare blasters he could borrow, for he had yet to get a laser weapon for himself and imagined snapping necks would be less effective for their current purposes (and he still found the sound of cracking bone unpleasant). Naturally, Tyr did have an extra blaster, and happily lent him a sturdy pistol model, as well as an accompanying holster. She did, however, also caution him to never rule out a good neck-snapping, arguing that they had gotten her out of more than a couple hairy situations. Mangat chimed in to agree with Tyr on the value of martial skills, demonstrating some of his karate moves as examples, and then immediately becoming more serious to lecture Sonic that this mission especially may require kills at close proximity. "I mean, were you even listening to Tyr on the ship?", he said. Sonic was fumbling for a response when Mangat laughed and said he was joking about the last part. Tyr told him he had actually made a good point and threw in a dagger with Sonic's blaster. With that done, they began their trek into the forest surrounding the prison.

The weather was nice, if a little warm, but the tree canopy provided ample shade from the sun. The prison was also downhill, so their legs didn't get strained along the way (not that Sonic's unnaturally powerful thighs could have been fazed by that amount of walking, but it was good for Tyr and Mangat). The tall trees and colorful bushes underneath made for good scenery. Individual rays of light that broke through the leaves adding an ephemeral quality to the surroundings, and Sonic would have probably enjoyed their little hike had he not been absorbed with going over Tyr's killing tips again. Tyr herself became increasingly quieter the closer they got, inducing a sort of pre-bloodlust like that of a hunting predator. Among the three of them, only Mangat had the appropriate disposition of someone taking a midday stroll.

Tyr signaled them to crouch down once the prison came into sight, something quite difficult for Sonic considering how top heavy he was, and ending up making him look like he was walking on all fours. The metal prison shimmered in the daylight, and by the lack of rust or clear deterioration, looked to have been recently built. A thick chain-link fence surrounded it.

They snuck up to the back of the prison slowly so as not to disturb the dead leaves on the ground, and stopped when they got to the edge of the forest, some distance from the fence. There they waited, concealed within the cover of trees, and watched to see what kind of guards were there and what kind of troop rotation was in place. For such a large facility, or maybe because it was so large, security was fairly lax on the outside. By the side that Sonic was near there were only two, very bored stormtroopers, one sitting on the ground with their back resting on the wall, the other absentmindedly kicking around pebbles by their feet. Sonic and company watched the stormtroopers do different shades of nothing for some twenty minutes, and when it was obvious that they weren't going anywhere anytime soon, Mangat suggested they check the rest of the area.

The front was move heavily guarded, having around ten troopers stationed by the entrance and a couple of others in sentry towers. "So back door, then?", Mangat whispered. Tyr and Sonic nodded. They returned to their previous spot in the trees and Tyr took out a pair of hefty Bowie knives for either hand. "Watch this", she said playfully. And before Mangatt or Sonic could stop her, she had emerged from their cover and was walking to the fence.

"Excuse me", she said in an octave carefully chosen so it could be heard by the two closest troopers but wouldn't carry to the other side of the prison, "but could I interest you fine people in some high quality knives? We're having a sale at the moment; if you can catch it, then you can keep it." The stormtroopers were startled out of their daydreaming, but were too confused to make a proper response before Tyr had gotten close enough and thrown the knives through the gaps in the fence and into their heads. "Always works", she said to herself in self-satisfaction, hands on her hips.

"Was that entirely necessary?', Sonic asked in a hushed tone.

"Well, I had to get in range, didn't I?", she said, shrugging. "A blaster shot would've been too loud. Anyway, come help me move the bodies." Tyr then clambered over the fence. Sonic had Mangat give him a boost to the top. Tyr and Sonic dragged the bodies to the fence and unceremoniously chucked them over to Mangat's side like so much dead flesh-- which, in reality, they were. Mangat moved the corpses into the bushes and then climbed to other side himself. It was all very routine, and struck Sonic as somewhat blithe. "I feel a little bad for those guys", Sonic said while Mangat was dusting off his hand, "they were only doing their job. Not very well, granted, but regardless."

"That's exactly the issue, though. Their job is bad, and they choose to do it. And it's a risky job at that; not 'stormtrooper shooting range instructor' risky, but you have to know what you're going into. I do think the humanitarian perspective is worth giving pause to consider, but there's no use getting soft now, we're probably going to kill a heap more like 'em."

"For the record", Tyr said defensively, "I would have knocked them out if it had been easier. I mean, I could have, but it would have taken more effort... and been less stylish. Next time, okay? I promise."

"Thank you, Tyr, that's a start", Sonic said in slightly exaggerated courteously to show he appreciated her backing him up.

"Fine", Mangat acquiesced, not wanting to be left out. "I guess me too." Then adding quickly, "but I'm not giving stormtrooper killing up completely, and by no means cold turkey, so we're gonna see some more blood."

"Almost perfect", Sonic softly yet excitedly exclaimed. "Now how do we get through this ?", he said in reference to the intimidating and once guarded door.

Mangat pulled his pants up an inch and gave a deliberate sniffle (which because of his nose, or rather lack thereof, came out more as a hollow wheeze). "I got this." He went up to the lock that was inlaid into the metal, opened his circular mouth up larger than should be morally allowed, and put it around the lock. Tyr and Sonic spent the next few moments trying not to gag as Mangat used his exceptionally sharp teeth to cut through the lock, creating a low, shrill screech like nails on a chalkboard, and an even worse sucking noise. When he was done, Mangat spit the removed lock on the dirt that was now covered in metal shavings.

"Pretty cool, eh?", he said slyly.

Sonic swallowed the hot saliva accumulating in his mouth that signaled he was not far away from blowing chunks, "Useful, yes. No comment on the other point."

The door opened, loose on the hinge, and they went in slowly (as well as dejectedly in Mangat's case), ready to react to whatever greeted them on the inside. Fortunately, there was no one in the hall they entered into.

"According to Admiral Mrisada there aren't many inmates in the facility, so we should be able to find Porg if we do a sweep", said Sonic.

They worked their way through the hallway, checking each cell along the way. Most of them were empty, with a few containing resting prisoners who didn't fitthe description of their target. The prisoners they did see were largely in poor condition, emaciated and covered in welts; they looked to be hovering over the precipice of death. "See what I'm talking about", Mangat whispered, "these first order guys are not worth too much sympathy from you."

"Who are all these people?", Sonic asked, "Rebel fighters?"

Mangat checked another cell and found it empty. "Who knows? I'm sure some of them are, but it seems unlikely they'd spend forces guarding rank and file Rebels. No, most of the prisoners here are probably diplomats being held as bargaining chips or just to send a message to their home planet. The First Order doesn't take too kindly to dissenting politicians."

"Well, should we take them with us?"

"No use", Tyr added in sorrowfully. "The Falcon doesn't have the proper medical equipment on board to see to them. And anyway, they aren't in a state to be moved right now. Trust me, I've done more than my share of field medecine."

Sonic stared into the one of the cells and at the sleeping body of a bloodied prisoner. "In that case", he said with measured anger, that most dangerous form of wrath, "Let's finish what we came here to do, and have faith that Rey and the others will enact vengeance for them on our behalf."

"Now that, buddy, I can get fully behind", Mangat said, slapping Sonic's back.

They made it to where the hall intersected with another and had no luck in locating Porg, but had to stop in their tracks as the sound of boots striking the floor suddenly rang out. Tyr signaled them to go flat against the wall most closely adjacent to the hall the noise was coming from.

"From what I can tell, it's just a single trooper", she said as they waited with bated breath, "I'll take them out when they come our way." The sound of the boots got progressively louder, and when it became clear the stormtrooper was fast approaching, Tyr retrieved yet another blade from her large, seemingly bottomless fanny pack full of melee weapons and grenades. She had the dagger poised at her side, ready to strike, when a thought appeared to emerge in her head and she put the dagger back in the fanny pack. The stormtrooper crossed the path of their hiding place and Tyr sprung forth. In a flash, she wrapped her powerful forearm around the stormtroopers throat so securely, and with such finesse, that it would make a python blush (if it were that they could). The stormtrooper thrashed about with no avail, and within moments was unconscious on the floor. Tyr winked at Sonic smugly as if to say, "I told you I would".

Mangat took it upon himself to chuck the unconscious stormtrooper into one of the empty cells, and they were back to searching the remaining rooms. It was an exhausting process, tedious, and as they were continuously on edge at the prospect of being discovered, unpleasant as well. But it eventually yielded results.

Porg was curled up, sleeping on a surprisingly sumptuous pet bed with a space heater blowing at his side. They Rebels were not prepared for what they saw. You have likely seen a pug puppy or a finger monkey before, and if you have, I would like you to imagine for the sake of argument that those two lovely animals were fused together with a prize winning hen, flattened out so as to be sleeker, and sprinkled with fresh pixie dust for good measure; this creation could possibly be considered, by a generous bystander, to be the ugly cousin of whatever species Porg was.

Not knowing what to do in this unforeseen circumstance, Sonic and the others initially just watched the rise and fall of his chubby belly, each one of them instantly enamored with this creature now that they had seen it in the flesh. Sonic, for his part, had mixed feelings, for some reason feeling Porg's presence was a threat to that last shred of confidence he had in his ability to be the group's fuzzy mascot. Mangat who had transcended into a state a rapture, could not long hold off the impulse to pet the animal that dominated that room in the dreadful prison. He rubbed Porg's fur ever so gingerly, only intending to feel its glorious pelt, but nevertheless roused the animal from his sleep. Grumbling sweetly at first, Porg gradually summoned up the energy to awaken. He opened his eyes, eyes so round and helpless that they would have made Darwin renounce evolution and proclaim he had found proof of intelligent design, and the last nail was torn from the coffins that held the hearts of those three bloodstained killers.

Mangat kneeled before his new god and Sonic seriously pondered joining him. Tyr had to go stand in the corner so the rest of them wouldn't see her break down crying. And then, with the coarse voice of what Sonic could only imagine was Satan himself come to rip them away from their apparent salvation, the words "kept me waiting" emerged clarion in his mind.

Sonic, Mangat, and Tyr all looked around to see what was calling to them, confirming that no demon had manifested in the room. It's me you super dinguses, the voice said again. The three of them were still confused, but another, eyes down here, please, had it dawn on them that Porg was the one speaking in their heads. Porg got up fully and did a little stretch with his pdgy body, it was cute beyond words. Honestly, didn't they give you a file one me? They must have, because how else would you know who to look for? So don't act all surprised.

"Um, yes", Sonic said uncertainly, "they did give us a file, and it did include a description of you and a note that you could talk, but we assumed..."

Figures, Porg interrupted in Sonic's mind directly without moving his small lips, I keep telling Calamari to get better copy editors but he never listens to me about administration issues; says I should focus on my own field. Hmph, well that's why these kinds of things continue to happen.

"I see, Porg", Sonic pressed on, "if I may call you that."

Porg or Porgy, either, I don't mind.

"Well, you'll have to excuse us because we have all never met a person quite like you and are, more or less, stunned."

A normal reaction, considering; I am probably the closest thing in the universe to a perfect orgasism save for a handful of others-- one of which is currently frozen on a lonely moon-- but you had better collect your senses, cause I would like to leave this drab place sooner rather than later.

"Absolutely", Mangat said as he scrambled to his feet, ready to carry out the will of his new god, "we'll get you out of here--" The blare of klaxons cut his sentence short, causing the three mercenaries to look at each other, and Porg to let out a warbling purr that was likely intended to be a sigh.

"Crap", Tyr said with a flat intonation that suggested she had used the word mostly because she assumed it was proper for the situation, rather than was really upset, "must've finally figured out some of their guards were missing."

More bad luck, that's how my life has been going lately, Prog said telepathically as he jumped, with athleticism incredible for his body size, straight from where he was and onto Mangat's bald head. Now, my dear rescuers, I believe it is time for us to take our leave.

Mangat wasted not a second, and was out the door before another word could be said. Sonic and Tyr followed him with only relative hesitation, careening into the hallway where they subconsciously all agreed to make a break for the same back door they had entered through. They had only got to the first intersection when a cacophony of boots could be heard farther down, near the back exit. Mangat and Sonic checked with Tyr to see what her determination was, whose answer was: "It is a lot more than one, that I can say for sure."

"Should we push through or try to get out the other direction?", asked Sonic.

Tyr bit the nail on her thumb. "Push through. Our job right now is to keep Porg safe, and that will be much harder if we take too long and attract even more attention. No, we have to break through this line."

Sonic gripped his borrowed blaster tightly. "Then break through is what we'll do."

The footsteps got louder. "Still, what a shame", Tyr said as she unslung her specially customized sniper rifle from her back, "we were doing so good. Now things are going to get messy again."

You'd better not get any gore on my pelt.

Tyr collapsed the barrel of her gun and swapped out the longscope with a red-dot from her fanny pack. "No promises."

Tyr took a breath and leaned into the hallway the footsteps were coming from, saying "cover me" at the last moment. It is said that he who shoots first always wins (granted they have at least decent eyesight). Tyr was well acquainted with this particular idiom. Her first shot ripped through the torso of an unsuspecting trooper, and skewed a second as well as a third behind them, like a red human shish kabob that faded as quickly as it appeared. Tyr continued her assault by lobbing a grenade into the middle of the group. In contrast, Sonic and Mangat only reacted quick enough to put some groaning, mutilated stormtroopers out of their misery.

Good, it looks like they sent some at least halfway competent rescuers. Always nice to know you're cared for.

They pressed on past the mangled corpses, which was particularly unpleasant for the barefooted Sonic, the blood matting his paws and leaving prints behind him. He also noticed, crimson splatter disregarded, that a few of the dead stormtroopers had markings on their armor that he had never seen before. Perhaps the marks indicating them as elite fighters, he thought. Whatever it meant, the markings left an ominous residue in his mind. The alarm continued to ring out piercingly, and frenzied shouting now came from all directions. The relatively short hallway took on a magnified length as further stormtroopers converged on their position alone or in pairs. Sonic, becoming increasingly more used to the weapon lent to him, was himself able to take out a couple of unlucky stragglers who crossed their path. But they moved with purpose (in no small part aided by the dual chides and encouragements of Porg), and were soon back to where they started.

Tyr forcefully swung the door open, only to stumble into a cluster of ready stormtroopers. There was no time to take any meaningful cover or doubleback the way they came, so the three of them simply lay into the troopers with laserfire as best they could. Tyr winced as a shot grazed her shoulder, but continued firing. The stress of combat and his newly acquired weapon familiarity had put Sonic into the flow of battle, and he was frantically dodging with flashing speed, his returning firing incrementally more accurate. Some of the stormtroopers had taken up position behind trees and were laying down heavy, if inaccurate, fire whenever they peered out from their cover. Other, more strongly thanatos motivated troopers rushed ahead, only to be blasted to the afterlife or bluntly bashed on the head. They were not the most effective soldiers, given that they were borderline mass produced and received at best only improvised training, but gosh darnit did they have spirit.

And the stormtrooper host was sizable enough for that spirit to pose a threat. Sonic's fate was starting to look grim when Mangat suddenly threw his weapon down and passed Porg over to Tyr. "Bold problems necessitate bold solutions", he said, his voice almost drowned out by the chaos around him. "Don't think I'm going to let you outshine me forever, Tyr." And with that he lunged at the closest trooper, ducking low to avoid being struck dead by laserfire.

Mangat went straight for the jugular... literally... his needle teeth sinking clean into the stormtrooper's neck. There was a terrible gulping noise and then a liquid motion could be observed just beneath Mangat's pink skin, swelling in his already visible veins. Another stormtrooper tried to pry Mangat from their comrade, but it was already too late, Mangat had sucked them dry and taken everything he needed to undergo a new transformation.

His muscles strained and pulsed, gaining new definition as well as size. With one arm, Mangat flung aside the stormtrooper that was accousting him, and let the other he had siphoned drop limply. Mangat, once emaciated in appearance, was now a frightful physical specimen. He moved to his next prey and tore their arms straight from their sockets, and then another he ripped apart with his teeth. A grim yet graceful figure, Mangat set upon the stormtroopers without mercy, capitalizing on the immobilizing fear his acts afflicted them with. What followed was a slew of unathestisized amputations and undesired, quite violent chiropracty. It could be said that if Chewbacca had been there, he would have been very satisfied with the state affairs regarding arms and their relative status of attachment.

Tyr and Sonic were relegated to the dark work of shooting the stormtroopers on the outskirts who could only remotely pose a threat to the rampaging Mangat. Porg was enjoying his role as spectator to the dread scene. The stormtroopers' forces were looking worse for wear. In fact, what was at one point a battle, was switching closer to the categorization of 'cull' or 'junior-sized-massacre'. Yet just as Sonic was mentally preparing to leave and later repress the images unfolding before him, Mangat was suddenly catapulted off into the forest by some unknown force. Sonic wasn't looking in his direction when he was hit, but saw his body rocket past his eyeline and into the forest. Precisely who the assailant was, Sonic did not know immediately, but whoever they were, he was sure they possessed a immense amount of power; from observing Mangat in action it was clear he could not easily be budged, let alone shot off his feet.

Sonic scanned the area, bracing to see a formidable enemy. His eyes flickered over the ruinous sights, the blood in his veins cold in apprehension; something bad was coming. And then it hit him... a sledgehammer, that is. He was caught from the side unaware, his quick reactions impossibly overcome to the extent he could only start to move a few inches away; not enough to stop him from being flung off the ground. He landed feet away, any cohesive thought other than coursing pain shattered and in shrapnels (as by the piercing sensation near his eyes he figured his orbital bone was as well). And with his left eye, the one that hadn't been hit and wasn't currently swelling, he saw the one wielding the hammer standing away from him. Tall, muscular, and bald, Sonic's assailant was grinning in his suit of heavy, silver colored armor.

"Keep faith, boys", he said in a booming timbre to no one in particular, "the cavalry's arrived."

Sonic struggled to get up, driven by self-preservation as much as anger; Mangat beat him to it, cracking his neck and going right for the other bald guy. The silver adorned warrior watched unperturbed as Mangat barreled toward him, only tightening his grip on his weapon. However, this time Mangat was ready when he swung at him in a wide arc, swerving under to avoid being hit. Mangat punched at his abdomen and found that the armor was sturdier than that worn by the rank stormtroopers he had just fought. The warrior responded by hitting him over the head with the pommel of his hammer, sending Mangat to his knees. He then delivered a hard kick to Mangat's head, causing him to fall down on his back. Mangat tried to get to his feet again, but was forced to roll to the side when the hammer came down in his direction. Sonic, through the haze in his vision, noticed that the hammer was moving with greater speed than it had any right to be, considering the kinetic energy put behind it, and indeed seemed to go exponentially faster as it neared the end of its arc; something else must have been propelling it downward.

The warrior heaved his hammer back up. "I go out for a piss and when I come back, I find my retinue as chunks in a hallway", he said. "I suppose that was you lot." The image of the strangely marked stormtroopers struggled to the front of Sonic's mind; if this oddball had a retinue like that, then he must have been a major player in the First order. He went on, "I trained them myself, you know. Much better than your regular trooper. Didn't deserve a cheap death like that, that's for sure."

Tyr, not in any mood to listen to him extemporize frivolously, and never one to sit back during a fight, fired a dead shot at the head of the armored warrior, who blocked with one his gauntlets. The strange thing, something that Tyr recognized instinctively and the reason she went directly for the head, was that the armor was able to hold up to her concentrated laser fire, something that of the stormtroopers could never do at such a distance. "Fancy, no?", said the warrior as he continued to block, "I'm not very keen on those plasma weapons my friends use, so they fashioned me this nice armor to 'increase my defensive capabilities'. But I can't complain, knights are meant to wear armor anyway." Tyr ignored him as she repositioned herself and let out a barrage of laserfire again at the head of the self proclaimed knight, who blocked each shot in turn. However, dealing with Tyr's precise attacks left him open to be tackled by Mangat-- wounded, but still in the fight.

Mangat came at him with his teeth, trying scrape them over his exposed flesh or slip them through the joints of the armor. The two of them wrestled and the knight made the shrewd determination to move himself so he was behind Mangat in such a way as to prevent Tyr from capitalizing on his prone position. But Mangat's blood rage was already fading, and soon the knight forced him off with a flurry of metal-reinforced punches. The last of his strength waning, Mangat fell into a fatigue induced paralysis. The knight pulled the hammer from the ground to his hand without touching it, and Sonic knew the magnitude of the threat he posed.

"You are some hardy Rebels, I'll give you that", the knights said, standing up. "But be assured, now that your weirdo buddy is down for the count, you no longer have any hope of defeating me." He flashed his crooked, immaculately white teeth. "Now, I'm not suppose to kill you yet-- or rather it would be foolish for me to waste such a good opportunity-- so I recommend you give up while you still can and I will guarantee that you get a comfy spot in that prison you just broke your friend out of. Any takers? Think about it, much better accommodations than a shallow grave, slightly less maggoty, too." Tyr responded with a simple growl. Sonic tried to imitate the same, but could only manage a strained, rather feeble groan. "No? Fine, if you want to be stubborn, then be stubborn. Doesn't make much of a difference to me."

The knight sprung at Tyr, the speed at which he moved once more faster than mere exertion would allow for, and it was then clear that he was adding bursts of force energy to the soles of his feet and, Sonic theorized, to back of his hammer for extra oomph as he swung it at Tyr.

Tyr was rightly wary of directly blocking the swings, and instead jumped back or pivoted around the hammer's path to evade it, making it seem as if she and the knight were practicing an interpretive tango dance. Sonic could almost hear the audience clapping to the beat, though that might just have been the result of the head trauma he'd received. They moved around each other, pushing and pulling as one tried to brain his partner, who in turn attempted get enough distance to shoot him, or into the range of a well placed stab from a dagger. It went on like this, neither of them able to land a killing blow as they skirted along the ground. But Tyr was beginning to run out of stamina, her evasions and thrusts taking more out of her than did the force-powered swings of the hammer out of the knight. Her footing got sloppier, and a couple times she just barely got out of the way of a crippling blow. In contrast, the warrior kept delivering with the consistency of the pony express. In truth, as their fight went on, he even became more excited, more inspirited by their little dance. His hammer whirled through air, practically whistling as it cut through drag. His was an arrogant, overwhelming power, and from the looks of things it would soon come to bear on Tyr.

The limits of her endurance being pushed, Tyr called out to Sonic between dodges and rolls: "Sonic... I know you're not doing so well, but if you could help me take this turd down, that'd be appreciated", she said with strained breath. Sonic did not respond. "You still alive?" He spit some blood out and attempted to sit straight, but fell down hallway through. "Okay... well, whenever you get a chance."

Sonic's head hurt and the side of his face was wrapped in an aching pain only a couple of degrees less acute from when he was first hit. It was hard to think. Regardless, it was his responsibility to put himself back together; he'd done it before, now all that was to be done was to follow the steps. Tyr was ill suited to handle the knight, she could only hold out for so long. Mangat remained unconscious. Whether he liked it or not, it was up to Sonic to change their hand.

His mind fell into place first, wobbly in process but working well enough. It was harder to get his body moving. It was like he imagined mothers go through when trying to get their teenage sons out of bed; slow and painful. However this, too, was but a matter of will. And will was something Sonic had well developed over the years. His appendages fell back under his control, cursing him with greater jolts of pain for his obstinance. Though would he really be able to help Tyr as he was? Rey beat a Knight of Ren without breaking a sweat, so why couldn't he? Okay, forget the reasons why not, It had to be done.

Sonic dug through the refuse of his memories to find anything that he could use, something to give him a chance. Something, anything. And then-- could it be? Yes, that's it, that would do it. A risk, sure, but one that couldn't be avoided. Forgive me, Master, he thought, I'm going to have to go all out, just this once. Suddenly... an inner fire burned without.


	7. A Trip Down to Flavortown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says it all! It's finally time for yet another flashback, but this one's got some meat on it (pun intended). How will Sonic react to meeting Guy Fieri(?!) for the first time? Will Patriarch Johnathan monopolize all restaurants with his pizza empire? Read to find out!

Six years ago and in another dimension, night had fallen over the city of Gastrotopia, but it was as far from sleep as an insomniac on PCP whose apartment neighbors are having especially noisy sex. Sonic lay badly beaten on a sidestreet, his blood mixing with the rainwater covering the concrete in a sheen, and which reflected a dazzling display of neon lights. A group of four thugs stood over him, laughing. It was one of Sonic's first experiences in a new dimension (his third, to be precise). His desire to go on was weak. He had barely survived the previous two, and had no idea of where he was going. He was alone, painfully alone, more alone than he could have imagined possible. And now he was probably going to die alone. What a rotten state, how pathetic, how far from who he once was: to die on a sidestreet at the hands of common thugs. But what could be done? The will to fight was gone.

The leader of the thugs squatted down to Sonic. "Don't cry, little freak, we're going to put you down right quick", he said, close enough for his hot, acrid breath to stick to Sonic's fur and skin. The thug straightened his back and looked around at his friends smugly to make sure they were watching. They were, most attentively, hungrily for some violence. So he went on flicking open a rusty switchblade. "Lights out, time to go to bed."

Sonic didn't move, didn't even try to open his eyes and take one last look. There would have been no point anyway, this wasn't any world he called home, not even the night sky would be familiar. But it seemed that unfamiliar universe was about to become his final resting place. Sonic spent what he thought were his last moments praying that his soul, when released, would return to whence it came, or else there be no afterlife whatsoever. He would not stand to live on eternally where Amy was not.

It suddenly became bright behind his closed eyelids. Ah, he thought, it has come for me at last, the light, the end. But then the brightness was followed by screams. Oh shit, do they have hell in this dimension? (It is the case that they do have a version of hell in the reality Sonic had been thrown into. Their hell, however, consists of living in a fully equipped kitchen with pantries that are stocked only with instant ramen, and is only for the exceptionally evil). Anyway, Sonic's fears were assuaged when the screams died out along with the brightness. A friendly voice called out to him: "Hang on, buddy, help is coming." Sonic tentatively peeked out with one eye. A number of lightly charred bodies lay on the ground, dead or unconscious. Actually, he noted there were the exact number of bodies as there were thugs. Standing above him, with a concerned look on his face, was a slightly stout man (in both senses of the word 'stout') with spiky, bleached hair and goatee. He wore stylish sunglasses, a loud buttoned shirt with flames on it. His body emanated heat in the muggy night air. Not your traditional savior figure, but perhaps because of that a much better one.

The man in the flame shirt checked Sonic's wounds with care and looked relieved when he was done. "That's not too bad, no broken bones or major bone contusions, just some nasty bruising. You'll heal alright with time." The man ripped some cloth from his shirt and tied it around one of the more open wounds. He moved his head to look Sonic in the eyes. "Can you talk?"

"Yeah", he responded in a grated tone.

"Good. First things first: I need to get you somewhere safe. Do you live nearby? Is there someone you trust I can get you to?" Sonic shook his head and the man started stroking his goatee. "Well, would you be against staying with me? I have a place you could rest, get some food in you when you're up to it. What do you say? Oh, my name's Guy, by the way."

"I'm Sonic", he sputtered out. "And it would be an honor."

Guy smiled with all the freedom of a frollicking dog, yet behind his sunglasses, Sonic felt an aged wisdom. As Amy might have said, and often did, it was "as soothing as being under a warm tonkatsu". He then helped Sonic to his feet, and when he saw him struggling, instead picked him up in a fireman's carry. "Ooh. you're light, dude. Gotta get some meat on your bones", he said to the astonished hedgehog in his arms. Sonic was going to say something in protest, but decided it would be smarter to give in at the time. He was tired, and Guy seemed to relish the opportunity to help. But moreover, it was the sense of security that he felt in moment, unquestionably safe in the arms of some stranger. It was a reprieve, a sign he could let go of his anxiety and fear, allowing the glowing, multicolored advertisements to pass over him. Shop windows shone on the periphery; the noise filled the air from the feet of night-time shoppers and those generally up to no good. Late capitalism never was so lovely as it was then.

Guy brought Sonic to a small, but well maintained building with the sign "Welcome to Flavortown" hanging over the entrance in a tasteful red cursive. The lights were off inside, and Guy had to reposition Sonic into one of his arms so he could take out his keys and unlock the door. It took him a little bit as he fumbled with one hand, but eventually he got in, flipped on half of the lights, and set Sonic down on the cushion of a booth table. The interior of the restaurant was in the design of your average greasy spoon, but the quality of the furnishings and pristine cleanliness belied the care that was put into it. Each table had a red candle in the middle of it (unlit at the time, of course) and the lighting itself was already a warm yellow-orange, almost the same as firelight. Essentially, it was the perfect place for a midnight bite.

Unfortunately, as Sonic saw by the clock on the wall, it was much later (or earlier, depending on how you look at it) than midnight, the hour hand sitting just off four o'clock. The 'open' sign was still off, so Sonic figured these weren't the store's regular hours. Guy had already shuffled off past the serving counter that dominated the other side of the room, and was rifling through the fridge in the open kitchen behind it. "There's a bathroom in the back if you want to clean yourself up", he said. Sonic look around until he found the sign indicating the bathroom, and limped over to it. It was one of those unisex single-stall bathrooms that only one person could use at a time. It was clean, though, and Sonic took his time scrubbing the blood from his face and body. He did not linger long on his reflection.

Sonic stepped back into the main restaurant and went straight to the counter. "You feeling up to eat something?", Guy asked as he continued to inspect ingredients.

"Um, sure", Sonic replied, confused by Guy's priorities concerning dealing with what was, for he knew, an unknown creature in his place of work.

"Great, cause I'm a mean cook. Plus nothing heals the heart like food; that's why we have comfort food." Guy stopped and puzzled over a jar of sauerkraut, then hastily took a note on a legal pad attached with a magnet to the door of the fridge. "So what're you feeling, my dude?", he suddenly continued. "Soup, maybe? Or a steak? Perhaps a nice panini would hit your sweet spot?"

Sonic, already filled with too many questions to begin to tackle what to eat, told Guy that he would leave it up to his discretion, if that was alright. Guy turned quickly to face Sonic, a overjoyed grin on his face. "Chef's special, perfect." He snatched out a handful of food items that he had been looking through, and set about cooking.

"You know, this works out pretty well for me, actually", Guy said as he lit the stove. Sonic recognized it as being a gas model, yet he saw no match being used; he disregarded the thought immediately. "The reason I was out at such a late hour to begin with, was that I got another one of my recipe ideas. Came to me in a dream, more like a nightmare really, seriously unpleasant. Anyway, I woke up covered in sweat, terrified, but also with a sick new meal idea. So naturally I had rush down here to test it out. It'll be good to have an impartial taster such as yourself."

"Does that happen often? You getting recipe ideas from nightmares, that is?", Sonic said as he watched Guy go about his work with the smoothness of a consummate professional.

He shrugged. "More often than my wife would prefer."

Guy already had a pot of chicken stock boiling, to which he added a pinch of garlic powder, some chives, and a decent helping of house-made ramen noodles. In another pan he was cooking a fat hotdog with a thin slice through the middle to "get the middle sweating" as Guy described. The noodles were left to steep in the broth a little longer even after they were done cooking, and Guy took them out just before they were going to start getting soggy.

"So you own this place?", asked Sonic, who was progressively becoming more bemused as the culinary creation reached its completion.

"That's right", Guy said, taking the hotdog off the pan. "This is my little darling. We've been in operation for a good thirteen years now, and I must say it has been worth every hour I poured into it. In my view it's achievement enough to even be in operation as an independent restaurant owner outside Patriarch Jonathan's conglomerate. Hah, their goons really keep me on my toes."

"Goons?"

Guy ladled out some thousand island dressing into a bowl, sprinkled a tinsy bit of instant ramen chicken powder in, and stirred the mix. "Yep, goons not but a stones throw from those thugs who beat you up. They come around every once in a while to 'make me reconsider the Father's offer' and each time I send 'em packing before they can finish their pitch. Luckily the restaurant itself is too popular for them to do anything to it, so they have to deal with me, and I'm tougher than most. They end up biting off more than they can chew."

Then, to Sonic's horror, Guy took the ramen noodles that had been drying and added them to his sinful mixture of chicken flavoring in thousand island. Sonic watched the crime being committed before him and was briefly distracted from the question he had for Guy. However, it did come back to him.

"Oh yes", Sonic said in start now that he had accepted the existence of the concoction, "I've been wondering what happened to those thugs earlier. They were pretty strong-- or at least they seemed so to me-- but when you got there they left in a instant."

"Hmm?", Guy paused while taking out a brioche style hotdog bun from a breadbox. "You didn't see? Well, I broiled 'em right up. And I'll say, I think they deserved worse."

"Broiled? How do you mean?"

Guy put the hotdog in its fancy bun, wiped his hands of the flour, and told Sonic to watch close. Guy rolled one of his sleeves up, turned the palm of that hand upwards, and as he held it there, a sliver of a flame appeared just above the skin, harmonizing with the orange light of the restaurant. Sonic was only more atoustanded by this individual; his aesthetic, bold personality, and strange abilities were the epitome of eccentric. So great was his oddness that he transcended any critique or analysis. One might but observe him with awe and thank greater powers for exercising such creativity in giving birth to something so unique.

"That's amazing!", Sonic said without even thinking about it.

Guy chuckled. "I guess so. Fire really is amazing, you can cook with it or use it to keep yourself warm", he said with a hint of melancholy. "Buts it's hungry, too, and if your not cautious it'll eat everything it touches." And as quickly as it came, Guy shut his fingers over the fire in his hand and it was extinguished. "Forget about that for now. It's time for some good eats." He put the now finished dish in front of Sonic. "I call it Ramen-Dog, the Arterial Annihilator."

It was at best dubious in appearance, but there was a tantalizing aroma wafting off it. Sonic took a few cautious bites. Surprisingly, it was actually quite good. Strange of course, like its creator, but a satisfying mix of complex flavors along with a powerful saltiness. It did help that one of the key ingredients, the hodgod, was something he used to eat almost everyday at home. And in that way the Ramen-Dog extended to Sonic a vision of what his predicament could be, an experience just away from the familiar, but satisfying nonetheless. There was also a surreal element to eating some new culinary delight just after thinking he was going to die, being pulled off the pavement and plopped down in a mostly empty restaurant with variegated neon lights shining on the outside window. He chewed slowly at first, savouring in it until the alarm clock for his appetite went off and he finished it off in two huge chunks. Guy watched him the whole time for his reactions.

"So what do you think? Good, right?"

Sonic swallowed down the last bits. "Yeah, almost a comfort food, but also in ways like a quick snack. It's tasty."

"Alright', Guy said, pleased with the result of his creation. "Guess I should save this recipe then." He took the plate and began cleaning the kitchen. "You see, it can be worth it to follow those flashes of inspiration." Sonic got up to help but Guy shooed him away, saying it was the chef's duty to handle his cooking station and that he never made his customers clean up, so a guest certainly should not be expected to. "In fact", Guy said, "there's a empty bedroom upstairs that I use to nap in from time to time. You should go rest up there now that your body has food in it."

"Thanks, I could really use that right now", Sonic responded gratefully while rubbing his aching back.

"Don't thank me yet", Guy laughed. "I'm going to open at ten, so I can't guarantee you're going to be able to have an especially quiet sleep past that point."

"I've accumulated some serious fatigue, I'm sure I'll sleep like a rock. But, Guy, there's something--" Guy cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it tomorrow. You should sleep."

He put down the pot he was cleaning and led Sonic up the stairs set far in the back with the shadows. The room was dingy, poorly lit, and the mattress rested simply on the floor, but compared to what Sonic was getting used to in his travels, it was a luxurious display. Only when the lunch rush came in the next day did he finally wake up. Fragments of conversation drifted up through the floorboards. It was a comfort to him. But as he didn't want to upset any of Guy's customers with his presence, he rested in bed until Guy came up to check on him a couple of hours later.

"You don't think I'll make people uneasy?", Sonic asked after Guy suggested that he have lunch downstairs.

"Maybe a little bit. They'll get over it soon enough. However, If you really feel like staying here at the moment, I can bring something up for you."

"I'd appreciate that."

Guy came back up with a platter on top of which sat a cold vegetable and tofu sandwich with a miso glaze, all on whole grain. Sonic was told it would give his body the nutrients it needed to recuperate, and that Guy's customers swore by its effectiveness in neutralizing hangovers. Not that was Sonic's problem, just a tidbit Guy provided. The taste was incredible, and there was no doubt the sandwich was healthier than the Ramen-dog. As he ate it, Sonic even felt some vigor return to his limbs.

The rest of the day he spent watching people walking down down the street through the window, looking at the ceiling while listening to the ambient noise from the restaurant below not far from the rumblings of your average cafe, or flipping through the dog-eared books on culinary technique which were in a pile near the futon. Time sloughed off thusly, Sonic not wanting to think even past the next couple of hours. It was easier to imagine he was back before he met Amy, in the early days of his angst-filled, ennui induced wanderings, living out of a cheap lodging nestled into a town he had just come to, and was whiling away the day waiting for 'poetic inspiration', or recovering from a gruelling cross-territory run. But reality will not be ignored for long-- lest it abandon you completely, and Sonic was soon back to figuring out what to do next.

And it was that once the last customers had rolled out, and Guy had begun prepping for the next day, Sonic came down to admit that he had no place to go, and ask humbly if there was anything he could do at the restaurant for reasonable compensation.

"I could use a waiter", Guy said after considering the proposition for a moment. Sonic was struck with a flash of disappointment, he didn't want his appearance to scare anyone away, and waiter is one of the more visible positions in a restaurant. But he pressed on. "Are you sure that would be okay? I'm not the most normal person out there, would it be possibly I could make you lose business", he said cautiously.

"I'm not very normal, either", Guy responded with a blasé expression. "And the customers put up with me."

"Yes-- and I don't mean to be inconsiderate-- but your level of strangeness if different from this", Sonic said, gesturing at his body.

"Eh, who am I to judge."

Sonic was puzzled. "Really? It doesn't bother you?"

Guy shrugged. "Like I said." He placed his hands together in front of his mouth. "The thing is, Sonic, I've been in need of a good waiter for months now. I've hired countless in the past, but they usually get scared away by Jonathan's thugs and never come back. Now I can't even get anyone else to accept the position. And waiters are crucial in the restaurant business; I'm run ragged from cooking and passing out the meals to each customer. The system isn't meant to work that way. However, you", Guy pointed at Sonic, "you've got chutzpah, you can hack it. I can see it in your eyes, just like I saw your resignation before when those thugs were messing you up. But that's gone now, it's been replaced with a flame I recognize well. You should be here with me, I'll pay you well and you can even have that room upstairs if you'd like."

"You don't need it for naps?"

"Not if you're doing the legwork for me. Also I'm pretty sure I can sleep standing up at this point. I haven't tried yet, but instinctively I believe I can. One those things, you know... " Guy shook his head to get himself off his own tangent. "Anyway, what do you say? Is it a deal?"

Sonic stared down at Guy's extended hand. Aw heck, he thought, I could use some direction right now, and this is a good start. "It's a deal", he intoned, and took Guy's hand into his own.

Sonic started his new position the next day. As expected, the customers were not quick to take to the bruised, fur-covered mutant who was their server. But one look from Guy's burning coal eyes quieted them before they could raise any protest or issue any insults. And over days and then weeks, the returning patrons warmed to guileless waiter with a buried snark. When a month had rolled around, Sonic had already become the unofficial mascot of Flavortown. His notoriety even ended up attracting some customers. And sure, there were some acerbic individuals who came in, but they were never supported by the other customers surrounding them, and Guy gave Sonic carte blanche to kick out any such people. "There's no discrimination in Flavortown", he said, "at least not while I'm still its mayor."

The work suited Sonic as well. Evidently speed is a virtuous trait for a waiter to possess. With his healed legs and healed spirit, Sonic could rush from table to table, taking orders and placing meals. To Guy it was a godsend, he would have needed a fleet of workers for the restaurant to be as efficient with Sonic handling his unnatural pace of order completion. The real work began when the sun went down on moonless nights, the kind of night when the thugs of Patriarch Jonathan would come out from their squalid pizza dens, ready for a fight. However, with the blazing Guy behind him, Sonic regained the courage to bust some skulls. Like clockwork, the thugs would come to intimidate them every couple of weeks, and each time they would be thoroughly thrashed and flambe'd.

It was a peaceful period for Sonic, in between troubled times past and to come. He spent most of the day and night working, as well as joking with the regulars, and when it got really late he would read or simply walk the night, watching people unlike him walk along, also unaware of the course of their lives. He thought about Amy sometimes, about his lost home. But mostly he let only concerns of the present occupy his mind. It was one of the many things he learned from Guy: living in the present. For someone so strange, or maybe because of it, Guy turned out to possess a greater depth of wisdom than Sonic even initially understood, and he was not shy in dispersing that wisdom.

If ever there was a person who could be described as self-made, it was Guy. He was poor growing up, but through his business acumen and love of the culinary arts, he was able to establish himself as one of Gastrotopia's most prominent chefs, a high honor in a city with no such dearth of skilled cooks. And when Patriarch Jonathan (simply called John at the time) set about creating his devilish conglomerate to absorb all other quick service restaurants, and then all other restaurants, Guy anticipated the coming storm, himself embarking to the Himalayas to study under the foremost spiritualists. It was there that he learned to harness the power of flame. Yet with all this acclaim, Guy was a humble man, worried only about his family, his friends, and of course, his food. He enjoyed the small pleasures, and tried not to sweat the minor annoyances. But above all he was generous, both in the true philanthropic sense, and with his portion sizes.

Guy and Sonic were close friends, as they had to be considering how long they worked together. They played off each well, Sonic quick and a little cynical, Guy ever the patient sentimentalist. Eventually, Guy even saw Sonic as an extended member of his family. Sonic got to meet his wife and his children, who were surprisingly more down to earth people when you took into account the type of person their respective husband and father was. He spent holidays with them, and offered his advice where it was useful (mostly in the field of technology, where Guy was far from an expert). It was an unworried life, full of vitality. Yet Sonic knew he could not stay. The upside of stability is that it gives you time to reflect, and in his off hours, watching the different faces pass below him, he made a promise to himself that he would return home. He had finally clued into the strong impulses he was getting from his All Star, put the pieces together from his last memories of Earth, and realized that if he made it to the Chocolate Starfish, he would have a way back. Before he was just jumping from universe to universe with his fingers crossed, hoping that the next one would be home, but now there was a clear way. It would be a long journey, and there was absolutely no guarantee that he would survive it, but he owed it to himself to try, so he could once more be where he most truly belonged, where his chosen family still was, he owed it to everyone who could be waiting for him. He had forgo peace to gain even the smallest chance of being back with the only person who understood him completely, who had once quelled all the fear in his heart.

Sonic went to Guy and told that he had to leave soon. He told him that how eternally grateful he was for what Guy had done for him, and that if he could, he would stay. But the simple truth was that he couldn't, there was no other path for him. Suffice it to say, Guy was not happy to hear this news. Guy was used to having Sonic around, having another person working with him in the restaurant, and having a similarly outsider friend. Guy tried to convince Sonic to stay, but he did not relent. And finally Guy had to ask Sonic what was it that was pulling him away. At first Sonic thought it best to come up with some semi-convincing lie, but he decided Guy deserved to know the whole truth, and so he told it to him.

Guy didn't even think of disbelieving him, such was their relationship, but he did sit for a bit trying to internalize what Sonic had told him. Guy was used to wierd, but even by his standards, Sonic's tale was beyond the pale and into the realm of the albino. Eventually Guy looked up from the spot on the floor his eyes had been affixed to for some odd ten minutes. "Okay, I understand", he said. "But give me a few weeks more, I need to get ready to look for a replacement, futile as that sounds." A smile suddenly alighted on his face. "Plus, there's something I still want to give you."

"Give me?"

Guy held his hand out and snapped a flame into existence. "'Teach you' might be more accurate. I'm fairly sure thugs aren't going to be the greatest threat that you'll encounter out there; you'll need a fresh edge to fight with."

Sonic worked overtime in his last weeks in Gastrotopia, fulfilling his regular duties at the restaurant, and spending what would usually be his spare hours training with Guy. He learned how to manifest his passion, to visualize his will as something physical rather than as an abstract, and somewhat how to control the wild appetite of summoned flame, which would rage out at anything if not contained. It felt pointless at first, like when you try to move something with your mind as a kid just to be sure you can't. But under Guy's tutelage, he gradually started to understand, and before he knew it he was creating his own sparks, then towards the end, independant fire. And for those who do not know, to birth fire is one of the greatest empowerments, and the ultimate expression of self-control to have mastery over a primal element. Granted, Sonic's level of proficiency was nowhere near Guy's, but it was a significant change for the short period of three weeks.

Guy saw him off when the appointed time came, and Sonic made his last goodbyes. It was hard for Sonic to move on from that place which now held such warm memories for him [pun intentional], his eyes lingered long over the scenery of Flavortown, the tables he had cleaned and served on, as well as the seats he could now associate with the regulars who preferred them. The sight of the kitchen, too, enticed him again to stay, that place where Guy worked busily and near ceaselessly.

"It's going to be quiet in here without you", Guy said, breaking into Sonic's contemplation.

"Quiet?', Sonic responded in mock astonishment, "No, it's hardly ever quiet in flavortown. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Guy laughed. "Yeah, I guess so, but that means I'll have to take up your conversational duties with the customers."

"True, you never did have much to say outside of the subject of food."

"Ah well", Guy said while stretching his arm, "this old dog's just gonna have to learn some new tricks. Geez, you'd think that pyromancy would make you set for life, but it appears that is not so."

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it", Sonic chuckled, "and if it ever gets too difficult you can also go on the hunt for my replacement. That is, after the alloted mourning period, of course."

"Alright, little blue flame, I can do that", Guy said and then added bashfully, even a little like he felt silly for saying it (which was very much against his personal philosophy), "Remember to eat well."

Sonic turned to look out at the rain running over the window to the outside and the bold lights. "I'll try my best, but you never did teach me any of your cooking skills." With that, Sonic tapped into the energy of his Allstar, which had been fully charged for a jump for some weeks now, and blinked out of the room.

Guy took off his signature sunglasses, that Sonic had advised he put on to avoid being dazed by the flash, put them on their usual resting place on the back of his head, stood staring for a little while at the Sonic had been moments ago, and with a heavy sigh, went back to the kitchen to get ready for the next day's customers. The rain continued to fall throughout the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got wilder than even the other chapters, sorry not sorry. Anyway, this here chapter marks the last of the backlog, so future chapters will be out closer to around every week and a half. Actually sorry about that one :(


	8. Hashire, Sonic!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New abilities and odd encounters; Sonic flares out in this latest battle. (Bonus points if you get the reference in the chapter title :p)

"Whoah", exclaimed the Knight of Ren, his crooked smile fading for the first time. Both he and Tyr were frozen in motion as they watched the orange flames wreath Sonic's body. A living essence flickering around him like an infernal halo, eating away at the grass that surrounded his body. The blood seeping from his wounds boiled off into a malodorous steam that clung to him for a moment, only further adding to his supernatural aura. Sonic placed his blazing palm on the ground and pushed his body upwards, his gaze fell on the knight like a ray from the desert sun.

"Well this is new", the knight said, just before a flame wrapped foot shot into his chest, sending him reeling back and blasting cracks into his sturdy armor.

Tyr stood with her mouth agape and moved to her head to follow the backwards path of the knight. "Whoo", she cried, her fists raised in the air now that her mind was caught up to the whirring speed of Sonic's attack. "Get him!."

The knight dug his heels into the ground to slow himself down, throwing up dirt as he went along. He caught his breath and didn't skip a beat before getting back into a fighting stance. Sonic hurled a smouldering fireball in the knight's direction. But the knight was prepared now, and dissipated the fireball with a swing of his hammer. Sonic threw another fireball, and once again it was batted into disintegration. The hammer, however was already beginning to accumulate damage from only the two attacks, the bevelled front face having turned a glowing orange, just on the verge of melting. The knight snarled, realizing that he wouldn't be able to outlast Sonic if he was kept in a defensive position, especially if Tyr snapped back into it at went for a joint pincer.

Suddenly pushed into a corner with his only hope being to kill his opponent before he was worn out, the knight lost his temper and went for Sonic directly. It was folly, though; the common folly of his kind, and as it so often did, it led to his ruin. Just as he had his weapon raised above his head, ready smash his opponents skull, a horizontal column of flame erupted from Sonic's hands and swallowed up the knight's head. Had he not have been bald, each discrete hair would have been signed from his scalp. The knight was held for a second in the position with his arms upraised, but soon the weight of the hammer pulled the body flat on it's stomach, and it was lucky it did, too, because the nature of the fall kept the knights face buried in the grass, away from the sight of Sonic-- I will let you imagine how that face looked (if would like a visual aid, I would suggest holding a candle to a play-do model of a human countenance and then squashing it just a bit for good measure). The smell was also not particularly aromatic.

The flames lapped around Sonic for a bit longer, but then they died out too, and he collapsed on the ground again. Tyr similarly collapsed as she had worn her muscles considerably in the battle, but she landed on her butt a little more gracefully.

"Do... you think... that's all of them", she panted.

I'm fairly sure there is no one left now, answered the voice of the long since retreated Porg. Other than us and the prisoners, that it. Tyr slowly turned her head to find him, and stopped when she saw his miniature frame clinging to the door of the prison from behind.

Tyr raised her hands as if to be asking Porg for an answer. "What the heck? You couldn't have helped us at all?"

Porg moved away from the door and out onto the grass. I think you three did a fine job by yourselves. And it was commendable, really. Much better than my wildest expectations of you. Perhaps the Rebellion really did send its best.

"Oh, whatever. It did work out, didn't it", Tyr said as she rested her head on the cool ground. A cloud cast a shadow on her body from above. "This is nice', she whispered. The knight's corpse continued smoking where it lay.

"Hey, Tyr", came Sonic's voice as Tyr layed luxuriating on the grass with her eyes closed. "Yes", she said as sweetly as she could muster, which ammitably was not very sweet, but you do get points for trying.

"I think I'm gonna pass out again." And he did.

Sonic woke up just around the same time as Mangat, who was still dazed from the aftereffects of his blood-rage. Evidently Tyr had moved them while they were unconscious, because both he and Mangat were on beds within the Falcon's crew quarters. Sonic's blood felt like cold, wet concrete, and his joints cracked sharply when he finally got himself to move. He had never brought himself to use that much fire before in any other universe, and it took an equivalent toll on his body. But besides the lassitude and the throbbing in his head, a hint of pride welled in Sonic as he remembered his victory over the knight, and how he had saved his friends. He thought Guy would be proud of him as well. But he had been only partly right; there were greater threats out there, it's just that so far they'd only been stronger thugs. Sonic rolled out of the bunk and only got rightwards after a few attempts. He greeted Mangat once he was properly up. Mangat gave him a slurred "good morning" and joined him in the land of the waking. The two of them then set off to see where Tyr had gone off to.

They found her sitting in the cockpit with Porg on her lap, petting him vigorously. Aside from that, Sonic also noticed that there were trees outside the window where he instead expected to see the inky blackness of the void. "Good, you're up", Tyr said when she saw that they had entered the room. "Now we can get this show on the road."

"You didn't have to wait for us, Tyr", Sonic said

"Oh, no, Rey told me before we left that she'd prefer it if I stayed away from the pilot's controls on this mission. I suppose she saw the scratches I got on the transport ship when I drove it on that tech planet."

"And the wing you clipped off my ship, perhaps", Mangat chided.

"Hey man, lay off, I never said I was the best pilot. And at least I got it back to you in two pieces. I could've just left it there where it was."

Tyr scooted out of the Pilot's seat and was replaced by Mangat. "I guess it doesn't matter, it was a stolen First Order dropship that I'd only had for like three months. I can always steal another."

For that matter, I would bet the Rebellion's engineer corp wouldn't be too bothered to fix it for you.

Mangat engaged the thrusters and they began their ascent. "Good point, Porg. Sometimes I forget that I have actual technical support now."

Indeed. Now could one of you please convince this woman to let me go?

"Tyr", Mangat said disapprovingly as he prepared their jump to hyperspace. "I understand the impulse, but you have to respect his autonomy." She reluctantly handed Porg over to Mangat, who quickly placed him in the co-pilot seat, saying "apologies, my lord" as he did so. Then the last parts of the co-ordinances were imputed, and they were shooting off to meet back up with the Beyblade.

As they traveled, Tyr explained how she had opened the cells of the prison while Sonic and Mangat were still asleep. "It was the least we could do", she said. Sonic thought back to the wounded figures he saw within that cursed building, and felt some relief that they might now be free, but not much. It was a visceral display of the First Order's cruelty, and he wondered what else they might be doing out there in the deep reaches of space, who else they had made victims.

It is unfortunate that we could not bring any of them with us. That was a truly wretched place, Porg's voice came into Sonic's mind.

"For the others, I'd agree, but you seemed to be doing alright", Sonic responded, recalling the bed and space heater in Porg's cell. "Some might even think that to be a suspicious way for them to treat an enemy spy."

Porg stared at Sonic with his exceptionally large, round eyes, and Sonic found that from close up they contained none of the innocence one might assume them to possess. If you are insinuating defection, then you can squash that thought right now. I'm no traitor, and the fact that you think I am insults me. No they did that of their own accord. And can you blame them? Who would want to treat harshly an immaculate creature such as I? My cuteness is a valuable trait, It's what allowed me to spy on the First Order to begin with.

Porg continued to stare into Sonic's eyes, Sonic stared back in turn, but the longer it held, the more Sonic felt an ominous air engulf him. He looked closer into Porg's black eyes, and now it seemed they contained the pleading souls of the damned. He was the first to break away, a chill remaining in his spine. Sonic looked at the cosmos passing by to distract himself from the dark vision. And if he were totally honest, Sonic was also jealous that everyone thought Porg was cuter than him.

No, he was no longer the adorable rapscallion he once was. Sonic reflected on the old days of his youth when he was, granted a scientific abomination, but also eminently cheek pinch-able. Ah, such fond memories. Images of a boyish hedgehog appeared in his mind. Actually... was ever even that cute? An existential horror now formed within him. But a new realization alighted in his brain's helipad and annihilated the nascent train of thought. "Wait...", he muttered while turning back to face Porg. "You were undercover as a pet, weren't you? That's how you were able to infiltrate."

The comment made Porg turn away this time. Perhaps. What of it? It may not have been the most dignified work, but it got results: critical information for the Rebellion operations and detailed reports on the First Order plans.

"Who were you living with?", Sonic pressed.

I don't think that matters. It was quiet, all three of Porg's rescuers had their attention fixed on him but said nothing. Fine, my 'master' was an extremely high-ranking officer by the name of Huxley. Fine lad really, just had a bit of an inferiority complex, Porg said sentimentally, but quickly corrected himself: However, that doesn't absolve him of his sins. Yes, Huxley was the right-hand man of the Supreme Leader Ren, himself. Well, he was called a right-hand man, but 'privileged butler' may be more accurate for his actual position.

Still it was quiet, unbearable to the proud Porg. Finally, Tyr decided to ask another question. "How did you get found out?"

Porg sunk deeper into the leather of the seat. Huxley came in when I was composing one of my reports. At first he very happy. To tell the truth, he thought it was an amazing trick that I had suddenly learned. He even brought me to Ren to show it off. Unfortunately for me, Ren is a bit more shrewd than Huxley-- and understand I don't mean that as an insult, his obliviousness was one of his few virtues. Anyway, Ren realized pretty quick what was going on and he, after some harsh protest and various concessions, convinced Huxley to have me sent off to a First Order prison, on the condition I would not be punished in any way other than that.

Porg tried to shy further from the watchful eyes, but there was nowhere else he could go, that is unless he learned how to collapse in on himself like a black-hole in the next couple of seconds. Mangat was fuming. "Those irredeemable curs", he spat, "how is that so few have been awakened to your light, my lord?" The comment made Porg feel a little better, cut the some of the sting from Sonic's sneering face. Sonic, incidentally, was overjoyed to have this bit of information over Porg. He hoped the fuzzball's telepathy worked both ways, as he attempted to mentally send Porg a self-satisfied laugh as revenge for the look he gave Sonic just before: it didn't work in the way he intended, but Porg got the gist of the message, regardless. Porg was incapable of sweating, but he had been able to, he most definitely would have gotten his back stuck to that leather.

Could we change the subject?, he said at last. And when no one offered anything else (Mangat and Tyr because they were genuinely too flummoxed from the sensory overload of the past day to think of anything else, Sonic because he enjoyed watching Porg suffer) Porg hastily told them about he began his service in the Rebellion on the same ship they were in were in at that exact moment. It was a desperate ploy for the purpose of distracting on Porg's part, and not something he had initially planned on telling them, but the subject was so enticing that it worked all the same.

"Were you a pilot, then?", Tyr asked quizzically, "cause it's hard for me to see you wielding a blaster or doing repairs."

No, not a pilot, I've always been in the intelligence section. I didn't really serve on the Falcon, just, as I said, began my service here.

"I see, so you were recruited here", Sonic filled in for Porg. A few lines connected in his mind an he added, "is this were you first met Rey?"

Porg was taken aback. It was. But how did you guess that? For that matter, how do you know about that connection?

"We're essentially here on Rey's orders", Tyr said. "She was the one who picked us out for the mission."

She did? I should've seen that after watching you three in battle; good choices, better than that dingus Calamari could have come up with, Porg said, raising his skinny fin like a fist. She's a very thoughtful woman, always well put together. I owe her a great deal.

Seeing Porg's fondness for Rey provided Sonic some needed common ground with him. "Well, she was very concerned with your safety", he said, wanting now to give Porg some reassurance "And very frustrated she couldn't come herself." (He would not let the cuteness rivalry die, but simply put it on the sidelines for the moment considering the circumstances).

Porg purred a bit (again, it was probably a sigh, but his biology was not completely designed for that). Yes, quite thoughtful. He fiddled with his fins a bit, trying to decide whether or not to reveal something more personal. As he now knew that the people around him were hand chosen by Rey, he decided in favor of it. I hope you don't mind me saying this: but I see Rey kinda of like a mother.

"That's weird", Tyr blurted out. Mangat shushed her again.

I know it sounds that way, but listen, there's an understandable reason. I was not always this magnificent, Porg said, gesturing to the stars outside the window. I was once a simple creature regarded no higher than some wild water pheasant, to be eaten with little thought. He suddenly crossed his fins over his heart and faced the attentively listening crowd of three. But that all changed when Rey chanced upon my humble island. She came down, an emissary from a wider galaxy seperate from the quaint reality I knew, or rather experienced (I was hardly sentient at that time). Her arrival was not immediately wonderful, though, a few of my species were eaten by Chewbacca. Porg caught the uneasy eyes of those around him who were now questioning Chewie's moral firmament, and added, I have since forgiven him. It was an honest mistake, we Porgs are wonderful cooked. Porg looked down in morbid recollection. Add a little oil, some herbs; makes a fantastic meal, I'm told. And he was easily persuaded to stop, all it took for him to stop was an entreating stare from yours truly.

However that is not the crux of my tale. As I was saying, Rey was in search of guidance and had finally come to my home planet where the master jedi Luke Skywalker then lived. Apparently it was difficult to get him to train her, and so Rey spent a good part of those early days practicing on her own. One particular evening I was hunting for some tasty grubs to eat, around where she was trying to expand her presence of mind, and was unwittingly engulfed as well by her Force energy. That incident triggered a change in me tantamount to rebirth. It was like I become one with nature, led along by her strong consciousness. I rode that high and clung tight to it when her mind recededed, instilling in myself everything lesson I could learn about the force in that short time.

When all was over, I had gained linguistics, reason, and a degree of telepathy. In short, I had transcended. At first it was like snowblindess, I was so saturated with light that it was hard to see anything, or in my case to suss out a clear internal monologue with all of the new ideas and sensations. Though with patience I was able to leverage all my new gifts and understand what I had suddenly become. Shortly I became aware that I could no longer stay with my people, cruel as it sounds I had surpassed them all. I needed to find a new family who would share my sensibilities. But this came with its own difficulties. Rey, the person I identified as blessing me with the powers of logic, was already leaving and I could hardly control my telepathy enough to communicate with her. I had to do something, so I stowed away on the Falcon just before it left. This was not too great a challenge, others of my species had before snuck in and were even then roosting within the vessel. To anyone it would seem I was simply one of those Porgs who were in the ship previously.

I lived there while Rey was hastening to reunite with her allies, and all the while I developed my powers. Everyday I saw my saviour who I could not even thank nor aid. So I worked harder still. By the battle of Krait I was nearly ready to make my presence known; I even the watched the battle itself unfold, a harrowing yet exhilarating experience.

At last, a few weeks after the remnants of the Rebellion were living together on this very ship, I approached Rey and made contact with her for the first time. Naturally it was a shock to her that not only was there a Porg who could use the force, but it was in fact she herself that had brought this creature into being. Of course she was already reeling from the loss of Luke Skywalker and all the other Rebels who died as a result of that battle. It wasn't a good period emotionally for anyone there, and I'm not sure my existence eased their pain any. But all the same they welcomed me into their ranks. The cuteness probably did help a little, having a living stuffed animal around was no doubt a positive. I was often pet or snuggled by those bereaved Rebels. And I was happy that I could be of service in that way, however there was more that I knew I could do.

I went to Rey again and asked her if she could take me under her proverbial wing. This was not something to ask lightly, Rey was at that point not herself very experienced in the ways of the force, as well as exceptionally busy with trying to keep the cause alive. I think she felt some responsibility to me, tough, or else was convinced by my persistence, and agreed to teach me all that she could. Now I am not the most gifted force user, and I cannot say if I was destined for this role or if it was sheer coincidence that led me to become who I am now, but I took to those lessons with great zeal. I never had a great affinity for telekinesis and to this day can only move small objects with it, but my lessons with Rey improved my telepathy to the level you are currently experiencing, and then some. It was blissful spending so much time with Rey. Had the situation been better I would have stayed on the Falcon longer, but I wanted make myself useful to the rebellion. I'm not suited for fighting, so instead I presented the General and Rey with my plan to infiltrate the First Order. They were hesitant to accept my proposal; I was a boost for the Rebellion's moral, and at the time the chances of my mission yielding any results seemed slim. Rey was the one who eventually relented, she respected my desire, as well as recognized my potential. After all, she had watched over me for so long already and so seen the extent of my resolve.

Porg was silent for a moment, Sonic thought perhaps he was looking wistfully back on those days he was still on the Falcon with Rey. His small face softened briefly and then a shadow passed over it, darkening Porg's naturally adorable features. At first glance, one might assume Porg would have difficulty expressing more subtle emotions with the face he had been blessed, but Sonic saw that this was not the case. He thought porg must have practiced this advanced level of emoting. An image passed through his mind of the hard-boiled spy wildly contorting his face in front of a mirror, and he had to suppress a snort. At the same time though, Sonic could emphasize with Porg's desire to prove his humanity, so to speak.

I was dropped off on a planet with a suitable population density, he continued, from there I found a band of more savory vagabonds whom I asked assistance from. They were immediately taken in by my appearance and agreed to follow me to the end of the universe if need be. I told them that I would only need to go as far as the Bjork system. We were there within the course of a week. It was not a bad journey, per se, but it was farther than I had ever gone on my own, and even as I snuggled to sleep with the various crewmembers, I still felt an somewhat new, quite strong longing for both homes that I had willfully abandoned.

This homesickness was lost once we landed on the system's most prominent planet, Bjork Prime, and my mission eclipsed all other concerns. I had heard rumors that the First Order's flagship was undergoing repairs on Bjork Prime, these rumors did not have the level of verisimilitude needed for the Rebellion to make a move based off them, but they seemed like a good start for what I was doing. And even before we landed, I saw that I was right to follow that lead. You could see the behemoth Star Destroyers from all the way in the mesosphere. I lingered a little with the vagabonds that had taken me, and as soon as I felt it reasonable, I had a tearful goodbye (tearful on their part, not mine).

I roamed along the edges of the work area, scouting to see if I could find any useful information. Porg turned to Mangat so he could direct the next part to a person in particular, at this time, you see, I was only trying to get my hands on secrets through the normal channels of subterfuge. My body was small so I figured I'd have an edge at this. But I had no such luck the first two days, I mostly just heard lurid or boring anecdotes from the local workers and overseeing stormtroopers. On the third day, however, something totally unexpected happened, which is that I stumbled across Huxley as he was making his rounds, checking on the repairs, no doubt at the behest of Ren. He caught sight of me as I was fleeing from the scene. Once I saw his uniform with all the gaudy medals on it, though, I slowed down and let him catch up with me. Right there he decided that I was going to be his pet. He then took me straight to the basecamp where the higher ranked members were hanging around, later on to his personal rooms in the flagship when the repairs were completed. He treated me well, confided in me as most pet owners do, the difference being that I actually had the capacity to respond and he didn't know it.

Porg had to stop himself from going any further into that portion of the tale as it had some personal significance to him, and essentially cut off the tale now that he had redirected the attention of his ship mates, which was his original intention before he got wrapped up in reliving it himself. You already know what happened past this point, he said laconically. I used my position to send crucial information to the Rebellion. And there was a great deal of information to be sent; Huxley was essential the primary administrator of the entire First Order, handled all the boring matters that Ren couldn't bother with. And finally, against me working my best to keep my true self concealed, I was caught and now my operations can no longer be continued.

Porg let his body relax now that he was done explaining what basically amounted to his whole life story. That's what I regret most, he added almost in afterthought. I failed in my duties and let down the people I respect the most. The atmosphere sunk into a quiet when Porg was finished, the dull hum of the ship becoming audible again.

"Rey doesn't resent you being caught", Sonic offered. "She was only concerned for your safety, that's all that was on her mind, I'm sure."

Porg moved his body to face Sonic (he didn't really have a neck, so he had to move his entire body along with his head) and scrutinized him to glean if he was telling the truth.

"That's a great relief for me", he said at last.

Mangat, who could no longer restrain his emotions, picked up Porg and embraced him in his srawny, raisin textured skin. "How is it that the universe would allow someone so beautiful to suffer as you have", he said, anguished. Porg, for his part, was more or less used to such treatment, but still taken slightly surprised. "There is no reality in which Rey would not forgive you. Truly it should be she who seeks absolution for allowing you to be subjected to danger you have been already."

"Mangat, give Porg some space", Sonic admonished.

It's okay, Porg interjected. This is actually kind of nice.

"If you're sure"

I am. I needed this, I think.

Sonic shrugged and left the cockpit, Tyr following behind him. "Still a bit weird", she mumbled half-audibly on her way out. Sonic found Porg asleep and still snuggled in Mangat's arms the next day. He had a serene look on his fluffy face, so serene in fact, that it ignited a shred of Sonic's jealousy again. But it was good that Porg was becoming more comfortable with them. Sonic figured he was a natural people-person anyway, understandable taking into account how short a life he had up to that point.

At least I got to develop normally, Sonic thought to himself. Indeed, it is no small task to navigate the world when you have only been just introduced to it, especially when you have the cognitive functions of a adult and none of the experiences to provide real wisdom. Just ask Frankenstein's monster. Or don't, that guy's a little melodramatic. Last I heard, he was on the writing staff for that gritty remake of "Calvin and Hobbs" which frames Calvin as schizophrenic as well as a sexy teenager. Not sure what channel that's slated for; suppose I'll find on a streaming service or something. But I digress...


	9. The Walking Ship Of Theseus Gets a New Arm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an exhausting battle against yet another Knight of Ren, Sonic and company make their way back to the flagship, where the other half of their group is recovering from their raid. Additionally, Sonic seeks out Rey for advice on how to control his new powers.

Sonic, Tyr, and Mangat were in good company when they got back to the Beyblade where bruising was concerned. The supply raid had been a success, that was clear in the amount of people around and general lack of somber atmosphere, but the main force of the Rebellion had not gone without a good thrashing. Unexpectedly, Nish was the most active out of the cohort of Rebel fighters and conscripted mercenaries. All of her wounds had healed after the first full day of sleeping, and now she was tasked with attending to all of the convalescing injured. She and Terho (who himself had gone mostly uninjured from the battle) were the only ones available to greet the Falcon on it's arrival. It was a short greeting for Sonic and company before, they too, were brought into the relief effort.

The next week was a whirl of making cold-presses, stitching wounds, and changing gauze. Tyr took to the nurse role with gusto, whereas Mangat was incredibly useful when any problems arose orbiting blood loss or blood types. It seemed he had a great knowledge of the sanguine, something which neither Sonic, Tyr, nor Porg questioned him on after seeing his display during their prison escape. They went through a mind boggling quantity of soup everyday (efficient and nutrient rich), and hydration was a constant worry for the new field medics. Mrisada, too, helped where they could, which was really nowhere physically, as they still did not have a replacement host, but as a learned individual they did occasionally offer some medical advice, which was appreciated.

Finn was mostly esconsced with Poe in their chambers, really keeping him company more than assisting in healing his light fractures. Rey, who had merely suffered some deep cuts, would have liked to have been more active when the rescue group got back, but she was entirely exhausted from using the force for as long as she had during the raid. Porg and Sonic payed her a visit shortly after getting back, something that she appeared to appreciate greatly. She and Porg had a lot of catching up to do, and after he had filled her in with the details of the mission, Sonic left the two of them to be alone.

Truth be told, though in decent shape physically, Rey was also recovering from a slight psychological blow she had received during the battle. Namely, that her shoddy, cobbled together lightsaber that she had created after she lost her original weapon in her battle with Kylo Ren, had finally given up the ghost late during the raid. Consequently, she was now in a more dejected state, spending the bulk of the daytime holed up in her room meditating. In some ways this was a reasonable reaction, it would take some effort to get the lightsaber functioning again, and as such Rey would have to bolster her combat skills involving the force while her main weapon was out of commision. Terho and Rose gave the lightsaber a look from their respective beds (once in the same one), but even they had to admit that repairing such complex machinery was out of their depth. Evidently the functions of lightsabers were beyond the usual understanding of technology, an ancient secret only to be intuited by the jedi themselves. Rey wasn't even sure how she made the replacement one in the first place, according to her she had tried to apply some of the engineering she had gained on Jakku, but in the end it had been easier to essentially just slam a wire framework over the two central crystals. Conversely, Rey was self-sufficient for her medical care, as she could simply levitate anything she needed to her bedside table. Sonic would check on her once or twice everyday, but she was fine by herself, and Porg was generally available for anything more sophisticated that her force powers couldn't accomplish.

In the quieter hours, Sonic, Mangat, and Try would sit around with their two healthy teammates and, collectively, the five would share the tidbits of their respective missions. Tyr went on about about their victory over the Knight of Ren, as well as both Sonic and Mangat's unique fighting techniques; how Mangat got swole after drinking, what? A liter of blood? He told it was closer to 26.7 ounces, but who's counting? Mangat, perhaps embarrassed by the tale about his blood-rage, redirected Tyr, and the conversation, to cover what she had now dubbed his "inferno mode".

"Flavor Blast", Sonic corrected her. It was a name he came up with on the spot, but still he felt it was better than Tyr's option.

"I'm sticking to what I've got", Tyr pressed on. "It was coolest thing Sonic has done so far. That weird bald guy was coming down hard on me, and sure, I would've taken him down eventually, but when I thought Sonic was about to pass out, instead he comes up raging with the flames of the underworld. I tell you, baldy didn't stand a chance", she said and nudged Sonic conspiratorially.

"Alright", Terho said excitedly, "I hope that wasn't a one time thing, because I could see that ability coming in handy later."

Sonic pondered this for a moment. "Hmm, I'm not sure. It's something I had learned before, but honestly that was so long ago I practically forgot I could do it. I was panicked and it surfaced again, I can't even say I called it up. Yeah, I'm not sure, maybe I'll consult Rey about it. She has experience with this kind of thing."

"Sounds like a plan to me", said Terho.

"Well we had a mite of a close call ourselves", said Nish with a gravelly voice, drinking something akin to espresso in a oversized portable mug which she had begun lugging around the past week just to stay awake.

"We did", Terho confirmed warily.

"My arm got shot off", continued Nish flatly.

Sonic choked on the tea he was drinking. "What?!", he exclaimed after the coughing had subsided. He checked Terho's reaction to see if this was true, and the claim was confirmed with a nod.

"But your fine now?", Tyr unquired sincerely. "One of those isn't a prosthetic, is it?", she said, pointing to Nish's arm.

Nish help up the once blown off arm in question and flexed it while moving her eyebrows up and down. "Nope, genuine flesh. It took a full three days of sleep, but it grew back."

"Really nasty", Terho added. "I saw it get blasted off; laser gun cut clean through the bone." He winced and shook his head.

"So you can regenerate bone, too?", asked an astonished Sonic as he cleaned the tea from his fur with a paper napkin.

"Skin, bone, organs; as long as my head is intact and attached to my torso, then I'm good to go. It was extremely painful, however"

"I can imagine", Mangat said simply.

Nish tore open a packet of sugar, dumped it into her mug and started swirling it around with a spoon. "I still have the arm", she said. "I picked it up after the battle. Right now it's sitting on my shelf in a jar along with liquid preservatives. I could show you if you want to."

"Why?", Sonic asked, exasperated.

"Why would you want to see the arm, or why did I keep it?"

"Why would you keep it?!"

Nish took a sip from her mug and let the hot elixir settle in her stomach, allowing Sonic's question hang. "It was a good trophy", she said, her palms turned upwards.

"How could it be a good trophy? it's part of your own body", Sonic said, then added, "or was."

"No, it makes sense", Tyr interjected. "It's like a physical reminder of your capacity to survive." She turned to Nish, "am I understanding you right?"

"Of course", Nish responded. "What she said. I definitely didn't keep it because I thought it would be a cool icebreaker to say you have your own arm in a jar at home." She added another packet of sugar to her coffee. "So was that a 'no' on me showing it to you?"

Sonic ran his hand over his face. "An unequivocal no."

The week of healing passed, and the majority of people on Beyblade had recovered from their injuries, or recovered to the degree to where they could get back to work. And that was a relief, for there was much work to be done. The raw minerals that were claimed as a result of the raid had largely been left unsorted and in an unprepared state for refinement. The Rebel intelligence and communication officers in the lower levels, under the direction of Mrisada, were assigned along with the fighters above to get the obtained minerals ready for the next stage of refinement. It was tedious work, but it went quickly as with Rey's force abilities they were able to get the job done at maximum efficiency.

The minerals sorted, and the crew now fully healed, it was then collectively, nonverbally, agreed that the staff on the Beyblade would take a short break. Their immediate job was complete, all that had to be done next was to drop off the minerals to be processed at the planet Anaclee—some five days away at lightspeed. Nish got caught up on her sleep, at last, and everyone else relaxed as best they could, having recovered from their various accumulated stresses. It was a time to unwind, though each person did so in their own unique way. Terho took his brief break to consult Rose on the technological techniques he had heard she was privy to, continuing a trend Sonic had just noticed of Terho spending more time away from the main group with the disconsolate engineer.

Ah, well, he thought, it was probably good the two were getting along so well. Rose could certainly use the attention, nothing wrong with that.

Tyr used her time off to continue her experiments with her hair, resulting in a violently wild, faux bowl-cut, if indeed you could call a hairdo with such sharp ends a bowl-cut. Nish, when away from the practical tumult that was her room, had taken to challenging some of the intelligent officers to games of Dejari—the game Sonic had earlier watched her beat Terho in— and supposedly she had gone unbeaten until she had an especially tense game against Mrisada (using Chewie as her physical avatar to move the pieces).

Mangat, ever restless, wandered around the ship or hung out in the lounge.

With Rey coming out of her funk over the loss of her lightsaber (not to mention that the repairs were coming along well), Sonic thought it might be wise to visit her to see what advice she could offer him on his recent fiery abilities.

Rey was in her room when he found her, a dim lamp illuminating her hands as she fumbled with a condensed soldering tool over her patched-up laser weapon. The door was open, but Sonic knocked anyway. Evidently, she couldn't hear him over the rasping sound of her tool, and continued to work without looking up. He waited until she was through soldering and had off her protective goggles before he knocked again. Rey started when she heard Sonic's fist against the wall, her back shooting straight and her hands posed upwards, ready for anything.

"Oh, it's just you", she said, looking his way. "Sorry, I was pretty engrossed with my work. No rest when the spiritual weapon of your predecessors is busted, you know how it is."

"Absolutely, such a drag", he responded, going along with her joke with a smile on his face.

"Is something up?"

Sonic nodded. "I'd like to talk for a bit if you have the time."

Rey looked down at her progress on her repairs, and satisfied, told Sonic he could take as much of her time as he liked. Rey got up from the metal desk by the door and moved over to her bed, when she had settled motioning Sonic to take a seat next to her.

"So", she said once he had taken his place, "do you want to tell what's on your mind, or would you prefer me to check your head myself?"

Sonic moved his stubby legs onto the bed and put them under each other so he could sit in the half-lotus, a more comfortable position for his back considering how short it was. His feet sunk into the soft cushion and he realized getting up later was going to be a pain, but he put that out his mind. "Do you know about what happened at the prison", he asked Rey quietly, "what happened with me?"

"With the fire? Yes, Porg told me. I assume that power added to what I sensed about you when we first met." Rey watched Sonic gaze absently at the floor. "Or, no?"

"That's the problem, Rey. I thought that ability was lost to me, and yet it suddenly came back to me stronger than it ever had been before. When I used it previously, the best I could do was a fireball, but the scale of fire I experienced when fighting the knight was far greater than that."

"And that bothers you? That you're stronger than you thought? Most people would be happy to have that realization." Still Sonic did not make eye-contact. Rey rubbed the back of her neck and bit her lower lip lightly, trying to anticipate Sonic's real question. "Are you frightened because you were unaware of such a power lurking within you? Or is it the nature of the power itself that upsets you?"

"A combination of both, I suppose." Sonic paused, mulling over how to express his internal experience. "I'm glad that I was able to defeat that First Order crony, but at the same time I think that power was not my own, or not entirely. When I was fighting, it was almost at is the flames themselves were compelling me forward, moving my joints and muscles—a strange sensation. And when I go over it now, I can't honestly tell you if I was the one who called the flames, or if they came forth unbidden, seeing an opportunity to be seized, a vulnerability so to speak."

Rey adjusted herself on the bed. "Hmm, you're personifying these flames a great deal. Are you positive there was a consciousness there? Or are you attributing your lack of control, lack of self-restraint, to something else?"

"That's the question I'd like to get to the bottom of. I know you have experience with powers beyond the rational understanding, with more spiritual forces, so I thought it would be smart to seek your advice on this matter."

Rey laughed lightly. "I'm honored that you consider me an authority on such things." Then, when Sonic didn't react to her attempt to break the tension, she adopted a more serious tone. "I'll help as best I can. How about you describe the... how should I say... visceral experience of wielding those flames, and we go from there. Any sensations or gut instincts will be useful, just give me a general impression of how it felt."

Sonic looked upwards, trying to recall everything he could about the experience, his face conveying intense concentration. Finally he felt he had scraped his mind of all the memories he could, and started conveying them to Rey.

"Well, it was warm, as you might imagine—but not warm like a sauna, more like a giddiness, it made me feel very lively, a little close to a nonsexual-physical-arousal." He took a minute to come up with a better articulation than the clunky last word. "I would liken the emotional sensation to that of seeing a close friend after a long time apart, or maybe when your looking at a crush from across the other side of the room and they suddenly turn around, looking you straight in the face."

"Okay that last one I didn't fully understand, but the rest was good. So you weren't angry, just invigorated?"

"Correct."

"But you also experienced a loss of agency?"

"Uh..." Sonic peered back into his memories. "No, not a loss of agency, rather I was deciding what I was doing, but the specific actions were not my own."

"And those actions weren't just unconscious?"

Sonic shook his head firmly. "No, of that I am fairly certain. I was compos mentis during the whole experience, completely lucid."

Rey tapped her fingers rhythmically on her knees, the gears in her brain spinning towards a better comprehension. She got up and paced around the room for a bit. "Would you be bothered if I linked with your mind again?", she asked, stopping mid-pace. "Just to be sure there is nothing malignant inside you."

"Go ahead", he responded, his hands in the air to fully convey to Rey that he had no qualms.

Rey got closer to Sonic and held her hand over his forehead. Sonic felt the same tingling sensation from the previous times Rey had plumbed around in his phenomenally oddly shaped noggin, but the sensation held for longer than it had before, after a moment turning from a tingling to a faint electric current encompassing his head; not painful, but very noticable. Rey's face was still, except for the rapid movement of her eyes that could be seen beneath the closed lids. The 'scan' of Sonic's mind went on for over a minute, and near the end, had there been a third party witnessing the two of them, and had that person been very perceptive, they would have observed Sonic and Rey's breath starting to sync. But then Rey opened her eyes, her arm went back to its place by her side, and the sensation left Sonic.

"You're not possessed, Sonic, you can find comfort in that", Rey said.

Sonic took a few deep breaths before reacting to her comment. "You didn't find anything?" he said once his composure had returned. "There's no malignant spirit lurking in me?"

"You mean besides the ghost of that Tarkalian burrito you had for lunch? Nope, nothing."

Sonic chuckled, and then furrowed his brows when he gave the joke a second thought. "You weren't near me when I was having lunch, as far as I know you've been cooped up in your room all day. So how do you know I ate that nasty burrito?"

A flush of color appeared on Rey's cheeks out of embarrassment and she faked a cough so she could turn her face away. "I had to be more thorough in order to be absolutely positive you were clean. I did get some memories in that link, but only recent ones, I promise. It was necessary, and you are looking alright."

"That's okay", Sonic said. "I don't have anything I'm trying to hide, I just wasn't expecting that."

"I probably should have warned you, huh?" Rey admitted and then bit the nail on her thumb; a nervous habit. "But back to the subject at hand", she went on, "I found what I believe was the source of your ability. It was powerful, but I sensed no separate consciousness from it, however that may be because you are not currently using it." Sonic had a puzzled look on his face, so Rey went on. "Bottom line: as long as you don't use it more than you did when fighting that Knight of Ren, then you should be fine. All powers come at a price, anyway, the stronger the power the steeper the price", Rey paused and added, "usually. So it's best you use powers like the one you posses in moderation."

"You don't use the force in moderation", Sonic mumbled.

"It isn't true of all cases, that's why I added the 'usually'. Plus, the force isn't like most powers, you know that."

"Yeah", Sonic said rather petulantly. The room was wnet silent as he rested his chin on his intertwined hands, going over Rey's answer. "So I glean you've made progress on that, your force powers, that is", he said, perking up.

"I have", responded Rey, "That's true, I have." She sat back down next to Sonic and stared at the wall. "I've, um, been training", she gestured over to the spayed out metal that was once her replacement lightsaber, "when I'm not working on that thing I spend my time practicing to increase the range of my telekinesis, or the depths of my telepathy, as you've seen. And some progress has been made. I feel more comfortable when I meditate now, there's even less anxiety than usual, and more harmony. But it's drained me emotionally, being so connected to everything in that way; unity is noisier than one might expect. You know even rocks have their own voices? Except they don't have anything to talk about but the weather."

"Well, you shouldn't move to quickly yourself. It's okay to take a little time off, especially now when we're not doing much else. You need time to heal, truly heal; holistically and totally."

Rey took in a deep breath and let it come out slowly, like a person in a deep sleep with odd and bewildering dreams keeping them company. "I know, that's what Porg and the others tell me. And by all rights they're correct, but I find I can't pull myself out this mode so easily. I'm changing faster than I thought people could change, each day the distance between the old me— the child scavenging on Krait—becomes even larger." Rey ran her tongue across her front teeth, making a light squeaking noise as the flesh touched enamel. "I think that's good, though sometimes when I stop and think about it, the whole idea is troubling to me. I'm moving so fast that it's hard to fully know the person I'm becoming."

"I can understand that", Sonic said, equal parts commiserating and lamenting. "You'll catch up. 'Change is the only constant', it's something everyone has to deal with in their lives, just at different concentrations."

"And all we can do is change along with the river."

"Pretty much."

Rey and Sonic sat next to each other without talking for some minutes after that, they had said enough for that day, but it was good for each of them to have the unjudging company. Sometimes it's nice to simply be around other people, share the air. Eventually Sonic left and Rey went back to her work, or at least she started, but decided instead to take a quick nap in the cool darkness. Sonic made himself a cup of warm water and longed for a good book, he made a mental note to inquire on that matter in the near future.

Other bodies were busy that night on the Beyblade, the intelligence officers with their charts and plans, everyone else either with personal matters or handling last minute issues preparing for processing the minerals. The Rebellion moved along all the same, there was much to be done, and a strong will to do it. But the same was true for the First Order, the restless, the implacable. The wheels of fate have no chrome rims, however they are a greater thing to be admired if one stops to see their workings, and at this moment oh how they were working. A confluence was coming, not that anyone particularly sensed it. A clash of fates, so to speak. Both sides had accumulated enough power to be reckoned with, and they were not alone. You can get lost if you look only at the dualism, but don't be fooled, other sides exists amongst those that are antipodean.

Somewhere in the galaxy fresh stormtroopers were being trained, new armaments were being forged, and the two remaining Knights of Ren were readying for their separate attacks. Huxley was making two cups of chai for Ren and himself for their coming meeting in the morning. On a rainy planet hidden by the splendour of a quasar, General Organa was arranging for new recruits and dealing with the various requests of Captain Calamari. The light and dark sides of the force raged against each other like a whirlpool, spinning and churning the energies of nature.

Something else hid at the bottom of that vortex, waiting for the time to make itself known, something strong beyond the clashing forces. The real power of nature is slow, slower than the eyes of humans, but it cannot be denied.


	10. Interlude for the Wicked (And Perhaps a Little Rest, as Well)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assassins, Salara and Gavino, finally get down to buisiness... with some mixed results.

As the Beyerian Blade took off from the lustrous forests and ecologically anodyne factories of Anaclee, many significant events were approaching the tipping points that would set them in motion. These events, however, are not what we are concerned with at the moment. No, because another thing was occurring at the same time as everything else; not an event, just a thing. And this thing that I wish to direct your attention—the importance of which would not appear so quickly, but instead would serve as a ripple effect in the grand scheme—was two half-baked assassins lying on the cold stone of a holding cell situated on the same planet the Rebels were just leaving. You know these assassins, Gavino and Salara, but you do not yet know the events leading to their current predicament.

As it happened, the two scoundrels were apprehended while trying to carry out their job for Knight of Ren, Ji-Yu. They had received the location of their target from Agatha (who had worked tirelessly to get such information after she had finished tying up her loose ends), and were scooping out the area where Rey was last reported seen.

They, too, were initially struck by the beauty of Anaclee, but as self-described professionals, they reluctantly agreed to leave any sightseeing for after the deed was done... not to mention the fact that their employers were on the planet as well, and would be watching over the team's progress each step of the way. But Gavino and Salara were there to do work anyway, and work was what they intended to do.

The pair's first move was to narrow the location of their target. Agatha had gotten them better information than simply 'somewhere on Anaclee', so it was only a manner of going around, talking with the locals until one of them let a useful fact slip. Despite appearances, the duo had actually done this before—assassinate people, that is—and had a decent idea of what to do, of the process. They stopped by numerous houses, local meetings spots, even some places of interest for sightseers; nothing much came out. Mostly the people they found eyed Gavino's rusty sword with unease, or couldn't resist staring at Salara's patchwork form, and so were distracted by the issue at hand.

Having done this for some hours, their moods worsened from how they had started the day, the two of them were walking on a forest path together in silence when an idea struck Salara, struck him like how an acorn that had fallen on Gavino's head some minutes before.

"I've got it," Salara said, his voice echoing throughout the quiet forest. "We go to the financial district."

"What?" Gavino replied grumpily. "There's no way they'd be so bold as to go out in the open like that. From what we've been told they're a little smarter than the debtors and pervs we usually handle."

"Why wouldn't they? It's not like they know they're being followed. Agatha had to dig really hard to get the information she gave us, having terminated the other contacts she had. They won't be suspecting a thing."

"When were you talking to Agatha?" Gavino asked in genuine surprise, setting asides his partner's idea for the time being.

"She came around again after giving you her leads. She was looking for you, you know. This was when you were bathing your filthy human body in the stream."

"Hey, I'm not filthy," Gavino interrupted, offended. "I'd missed, like, a day of bathing. How can you call that filthy?"

"All humans are filthy to me, don't take it too personally. Anyway, as I was saying, Agatha came back with some extra tips on Rey's close associates, but you were out so I talked to her instead. I think I scared her a little when I first spoke up, asking her why she was back. She pulled her gun on me, would you believe it! Since she had never heard me talk, she thought there was an intruder or something. Hah, that must've gotten her blood pumping!" Gavino snorted a little at the thought of what that scene would have looked like. A snake-bird hissed overhead.

"But you talked her down, and then the two of you chatted, that's it?" Gavino asked, amused.

"Pretty much. She's nicer than that other one."

Gavino nodded with his eyes closed. He deeply agreed with Salara's statement. Gavino then inhaled some air sharply through his teeth, thinking over his partner's proposition. "Okay, you've convinced me, we'll go to the financial district. We haven't gotten anywhere yet as things stand. Maybe this could be our breakthrough."

Salara raised his odd robot arms in joy, and two of them swiftly changed directions to that which would get them to their new destination. Ji-Yu watched them do so from a distance. She had been doing so the whole time, watching, just in case anything unexpected happened. The speeder she had been using idled behind her. She put her binoculars down, as well as shed her specialized listening device, and switched her gaze to Agatha.

"You don't think I'm mean, do you?" she asked with real concern.

"Only to those who deserve to be treated meanly," she responded.

Agatha always chose her words carefully, she was a wise woman.

The sky wasn't dark when Gavino and Salara finally made it to the financial district, but from the position of the sun, one could tell that it soon would be. Gavino's eyes were busy checking each person who passed by them, and the same was true for Salara's visual processing system. They themselves were getting attention from the pedestrians who were normally used to seeing strangers now that Anaclee's ports had opened up, but as it happened that duo turned more than a few heads—in one case multiple on the same body.

"I'm not seeing anyone who fits the description of Rey or any of her colleagues," announced Salara when he had scanned everyone in range of his sensors.

Gavino yawned briefly. They had been at it all day and he was becoming tired. "No, I'd be too much of a coincidence if they were here at the same time as us. We can ask around again; someone will know something. They had to have left their ship at some point, and if not someone will at least be able to tell us where it is."

The gears toward the top of Salara's head groaned against each other; he was trying to nod. "They can't evade us forever."

Gavino and Salara continued ahead through the financial district until someone called out in their direction. "Excuse me... um, sirs. But could I talk to you for a second?" Gavino's attention was quickly redirected to the tall woman standing before them in the street. She had a blaster on her waist and was wearing a uniform of some sort.

Gavino cleared his throat. More people were looking in their direction now. "Is something wrong?" he said uncertainty. There was no way the local authorities could be aware that they were assassins, was there?

"As a matter of fact, there is," said the person who, from the badge stitched into her jacket, Gavino could now see was an officer of the local law enforcement. He also noticed she had a hint of admonishment in her voice. "You can't have that on your person when in the financial district." She pointed to the sword Gavino was carrying. "It's a new ordinance."

"Oh," said Gavino, who was relieved just to know their plot wasn't found out. "It's a harmless artifact. I only keep because I think it grants me more mystique.

The officer looked at the pair askance; this was not the kind of situation she would prefer having to be involved in. "Looks like a weapon to me, and there are no weapons allowed in the financial district, regardless of their practical lethality. You're going to have to hand it over."

Gavino stepped back. "Now hold on," his voice was rising higher, further attracting the attention of pedestrians. "I can't just hand off my sword, it's one of the only valuable possessions I own."

"Then you should have thought about that before you brought it here." The officer was losing her patience. "I will give it back when you're ready to leave the district."

"I will not hand it over," Gavino nearly shouted. "This could be a shakedown for all I know."

"Just give it to her," Salara whispered to his partner, as best a droid can whisper.

"It isn't a shakedown," said the officer, who was more and more tiring of this debate.

"No! It's a matter of principle, and I shant yield to this draconian law."

There was a now a small circle around the three of them. The officer had to resolve this before it got anymore out of hand. She drew her blaster. "Give me your weapon," she commanded.

Drat, thought Gavino, ranged weapons, my only weakness. Gavino slowly put his hands in the air. Salara attempted to do the same. The officer walked up to Gavino heavily, blaster still drawn, and snatched the sword from his belt. "You're under arrest," she said flatly, "for refusing to obey an officer of the law and for disturbing the peace."

"Good work, dullard," Salara chastised his partner. "Now we're going to the slammer just for that useless sword of yours."

"It's not useless," Gavino shot back, "it makes me look cool."

"A very reasonable thing to go to prison for."

"You wouldn't understand, you already look cool."

"Please", said the officer in an icy tone threatening frostburn should she be further annoyed, "just be quiet and come with me. We can have all of this sorted out in no time at all."

The officer locked around Gavino's wrist a pair of sturdy manacles she had on her person. When it came time to restrain Salara, she simply squinted at his body, eventually deciding to radio one of the other officers nearby to come to her location, and bring a chain with him, goddangit. So Gavino and Salara were led away by the two officers, getting reproachful looks from the shoppers as they went along, including a couple from an odd duo of a diminutive woman with stark raven hair and another short individual covered in pastel blue fur. Salara thought they looked familiar for some reason.

They finally made it to the cramped station a little away from the district proper, and were told to wait in cold, stone cell while the only three officers on duty sorted things out. It was damp inside, and Salara worried if his circuitry wouldn't be damaged by the moisture.

"We could have killed them, you know," Salara muttered disdainfully in the gloom of the cell.

"And be hunted by the real peacekeepers around here? No thank you." Gavino rubbed his nose thoughtfully. "Don't get too riled up, we'll be let by the end of the night... tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Our window might be closed tomorrow morning," huffed Salara.

Gavino laid himself flat against the rough stone floor and stared at the ceiling. "Maybe," he said quietly. "Dang, we really should've asked for half upfront."

Two other sets of eyes were trained on Gavino and Salara as they were taken away to the holding cell, and those eyes belonged to their employers. Ji-Yu and Agatha were standing still as statues some five feet away from where the incident had taken place. They were wearing uncharacteristic civilian clothes and wide brimmed sun hats so they could blend into the scenery. Agatha was feeling much more spry having shed the extra weight of her armor, but also much more vulnerable to lasers. Ji-Yu for her part felt mostly the same, seeing as she had picked up a full set of void-black clothes which fit nicely into her gothic aesthetic.

"Those absolute knuckleheads," said a stunned Agatha.

Ji-Yu merely sighed deeply. At least the air was pleasantly clear; lovely forest air with a hint of moisture and a wonderful fragrant aftertaste.

"They just got arrested and let two of Rey's close associates go," Agatha groaned and took her hat off. "Should we attack them, the Rebels? I mean, they're right here."

Ji-Yu shook her head dejectedly. "This isn't the place."

"How about following them?" Agatha added hurriedly. "We could see where the ship is landed."

Ji-Yu turned to look at her friend, a deep-set frown on her face. "Honestly Agatha, I don't have it in me today." She looked up at the beautiful sky. "Of course this would happen. Why not? Dumb crap happens to me all the time"

"Well, we should do something, right? So what's the plan?" Agatha was looking for anything to grip onto in order to move this forward. Ji-Yu was hazy where this particular mission was concerned; too much was riding on it, and her pride was already wounded from losing to the Rebel troops once before.

Ji-Yu chewed the side of her lip lightly. "I could go for a drink."

Agatha blink a few times. That was not the response that she had been expecting. She straightened her back. "Okay, you can count me in. We'll get 'em next time, boss."

"Absolutely."

Agatha patted her friend on the back as they went off looking for the nearest, clean bar. It's stressful working for an evil empire, sometimes you need to take time away from orphaning children and wind down instead. The assassins, as well, had ample time to themselves in their cell. Those four would not trouble the Rebels that day... the fates had a different plan awaiting them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a little addendum I wanted to do to explain what the assassins were doing while the Rebels chilled on Anaclee. I leaned a little more on the comedic elements and think it ended up working pretty well. Hopefully you think so as well, lol. Anyway, just wanted to check in to see how y'all are doing, how you feel about this sort of additional material in case I want to do something like it again. Also, I changed the story summary today, and was wondering if you guys have to say about the change (I saved the previous summary, so I can change it back if necessary). And I know this is getting long, but one other thing I'm considering is going back and doing light revisions on the first few chapters, so i thought I'd give y'all a warning on that.


	11. Live My Life a Quarter Parsec at a Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ji-Yu, the errant Knight of Ren, puts a new plan in motion to exact revenge on the Rebels and, more specifically, on their leader, Rey. Sonic and the others have already made their way to the planet Anaclee, where they get a little shopping done before hitting the road again. But will they be able to leave before Ji-Yu's assassins catch up with them?

Ji-Yu rested her head in her hands and thought maybe it was time to give up. She had just set eyes on the assassins she had deigned to hire and was already thinking to herself, this is never going to work.

Standing in a field of lush grass, just outside her personal cruiser, the clouds were thick, the wind was howling, and for the first time she was meeting the assassin's she wished to hire. At first it had seemed like a perfectly good plan: since she couldn't afford another personal failure with the capture of the Rebel jedi, Rey, she would hire an assassin or two and send them after her. Now, Ji-yu didn't believe simple assassins could definitely kill Rey, why would they do any better at that task than her herself? No, their purpose would mainly be to test out the strength of that rotten goody-two-shoes. Maybe they would even injure Rey in the process, but when all was done, the idea was that Ji-Yu would have an improved idea of Rey's capabilities, some foothold over her.

But now standing before her was a scruffy man with a rusty sword, and what appeared to be a handful of droids loosely connected to make some sort of mechanical chimera. Her hopes were dashed. There was no way those rejects would last more than a second in a battle against a real jedi, let alone push Rey to show the extent of her abilities. Best case scenario the human might accidentally get some of his blood in Rey's eyes.

"Gavino and Salara?", she asked dejectedly.

"Those are our names", said the scruffy man with the sword. "I'm Gavino, and this", he pointed to the mechanical Chimera, "is my associate, Salara." Salara made a low beep in response.

"Wonderful", Ji-yu said, impressively, without any inflection whatsoever. She looked back at Agatha, the elite stormtrooper assigned to her (and though she would never openly admit it, also her best friend). Agatha had been the one who was tasked with actually finding the assassins, and Ji-Yu's cold stare coupled with the faint frown on her face told Agatha that her superior was not satisfied with her work. Agatha shrugged.

"Okay", Ji-yu said as she rubbed her brow and turned back to the two assassins. "I believe Agatha has informed you about your target?"

"She has", responded Gavino. Salara gave an enthusiastic beep.

"And you're confident that you will able to remove this nuisance for us?"

Gavino gripped his hand around the sword at his waist. "Absolutely, you and Agatha can rest assured that this Rey, or whoever, isn't gonna stand no chance against my blade and my buddy."

"I see", Ji-yu said softly. "Actually I'm curious about that blade of yours; is it something special? Maybe cursed or enchanted?"

"A good eye you've got", Gavino said, rubbing his beard. "I'm a bit of a traditionalist, not a fan of those fancy plasma weapons and the like... no offence... and this blade here is made of genuine Raxxen steel, a rare artifact."

Ji-Yu looked back at Agatha, this time with pleasant surprise on her face. "Interesting. So what kind of powers does it possess?"

Gavino began to blanche in embarrassment. "Um, it doesn't really have any powers per se, but artistically many would consider it a true masterwork, so it has that going for it."

Ji-yu's face went slack. "Oh. So really it's just a old metal sword. Can I ask why you've picked that out as your weapon of choice?"

"As I said, I'm a traditionalist."

Ji-yu closed her eyes and tilted her head up towards the sky; listening to these bozos, she was starting to come up with a nasty migraine. "No, but why? Why not just use a plasma weapon? I mean, what makes it better? Because as I understand it right now, it's just a plasma sword but worse. I don't know, maybe you plan on giving them tetanus. What about Salara, what can he do?"

"Well—", began Gavino before he was interrupted by Ji-yu. "

No", she said, "I want him to speak for himself. He can speak, can't he?

"Of course", Gavino picked up. "He's just quite shy around others and would prefer me to speak for him."

Salara beeped.

"Okay, he can't talk, got it."

Gavino coughed. "Anyway, as I was saying, Salara is a robot."

Ji-yu waited for Gavino to elaborate, but he stayed silent. "That's it? 'He's a robot', that's what he can do?"

"Uh, yes", Gavino stuttered. "But if you think about it, that's quite a useful... trait? Attribute, maybe? Anyway, being a robot, Salara's skin is very tough, made of literal iron. In addition, he can also survive in space because he doesn't breathe and if he turns off his coolers he can withstand the cold of a vacuum. He can hit pretty hard, too." All the while Gavino was talking, Salara made various poses like the ones they do at bodybuilding tournaments, except his physique in no way resembled that of a humanoid, so the intended effect was mostly lost. "Salara's a very pragmatic individual to have around", Gavino concluded.

"But whether he is pragmatic is not the question", said Ji-yu, who was now thinking she might somehow be dealing with actual children, or an adult whose brain had been swapped with a child, along with his defective droid. "The question is: can you two complete your job? Right now I'm not so sure of that."

Gavino's face had turned the same shade as a ripe apple in the middle of fall. Literal steam was coming from Salara. "With all due respect, I've gotten along quite well with this weapon here. And Salara is a fine fighter. Now if you don't think we're the right fit then that's fine, but I won't let you go on insulting our methods like this."

Ji-yu sighed. "Apologies, that may have been going too far."

The color started fading from Gavino's face. "Accepted."

"Would you mind if I consulted with my associate for a moment?", said Ji-Yu. She was about ready to give Gavino and Salara the boot, but Agatha was generally dependable—that was part of why Ji-yu liked her so much—and she was curious what reasons she might have had for presenting these losers as candidates.

"Go ahead," said Gavino.

Ji-yu walked through the thick grass and back to Agatha, who was standing behind her with a bewildered expression on her tattooed face.

"What is going on?" she whispered confusedly to her friend. "I thought you said you got me some cold-blooded killers?

Agatha pushed away the hair that the wind was blowing into her face. "I'm just as confused as you are, boss. I was scrupulous in finding you a suitable assassin, I really was. I searched every place of ill repute, contacted everyone I knew from the local underground, and by rights these two should be the best... that's what I was told."

Ji-yu held her fist against her lips. "Could it be that you've been lied to?"

"I don't think so, I made some substantial threats on the families of a few of those contacts, one I even have blackmail on."

"I see", Ji-yu said quietly. She continued to hold her fist against her lip, and looked at the ground as she thought. Suddenly Ji-yu perked up as if she had just gotten a revelation, "maybe this is all a coincidence. Yes, this is all some wild coincidence. You accidentally found a different pair of assassins by the same names as the real, competent Gavino and Salara."

Agatha narrowed her eyes at the odd behavior of her friend. "No, I'm positive these are the individuals I was told of."

Ji-yu's arms went slack. "I know, I know. You wouldn't be so unthorough. I just wanted to indulge in the delusion for a moment; this all so depressing."

Agatha laughed and rested her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Boss, you don't have to be so worried about this, you thought it all through, remember. Even if these weirdos fail, it will hardly affect us. Heck, if we tell them they get their payment upon completion, then we won't even be down any credits." Agatha started rubbing Ji-yu's shoulders. "I'd like to give Gavino the benefit of the doubt, but that would honestly go against all reason; he and Salara probably will fail, but right now that's not so big a deal."

Ji-yu let Agatha's hands soothe her anxiety about this whole mess. She had something to prove and didn't want to fail again. She wasn't one to make the same mistake twice, nor was she one to suffer a humiliation such as that given to her by Rey. She closed her eyes and let her head roll back. In her friend's presence, Ji-yu felt that she could let her walls fall a bit (honestly, Agatha was Joshua's horns to her Jericho, but that lay where it would). "You're right, Agatha. Of course you're right."

"So", Agatha said, "why don't we just let them do the job and see how things pan out? And, hey, it's a nice day, how about we go do something relaxing after that?"

Ji-yu straightened her back out. "Truly. Good temperature and a sun blanketed by thick clouds, very nice. Okay, I'll go tell those two that if they're willing to accept pay after the fact, then we're all clear. After that we can nap in the grass or take a walk in the woods—clear our heads and what not."

"Copy that, a perfectly pleasant plan", Agatha said, smiling.

Ji-yu started walking away, adding as she turned away, "and maybe you should make good on those threats." Agatha wasn't sure if her friend was joking, but she wouldn't be bothered either way. Ji-yu went back to Gavino and Salara; a deal was negotiated in no time at all. Soon enough, the two assassins were going on their own way, and Agatha was removing her heavy armor while Ji-yu stretched before their walk. Indeed, no reason to waste a fine day.

"The redhead back there was a little rude, don't you think?", said Salara in his clear voice as they left.

"Eh", responded Gavino. "I guess it wasn't totally unwarranted."

From above its atmosphere, the planet Anaclee was a striking green. Not entirely green, of course, there were large patches of blue water as well, but if it were compared to Earth, Anaclee was ever slightly more verdant; no vast oceans hogging up all the good realty that the plants could be using. However, if you went closer, say if you landed on the planet proper and looked around, you would see that a threat to that splendid green was gaining in influence. That threat: industry. Or at least it might become a threat depending on how the people of that planet went forward. Reckless harnessing of industry has destroyed the environment of many an innocent planet, and prudential use has ensured the survival of the ecology of others. Would Anaclee be choked by black smoke, or be nurtured like the Earth from the reality in which Jimmy Carter learned how to clone himself? Really, it all comes down to approach.

But all this was mostly ancillary to Sonic and the others that had touched down on that planet aboard the Beyblade. As it turned out, Anaclee had recently adopted some new policies and was now specializing in processing the raw mineral that the Rebellion had taken possession of during the raid. That metal, nu metal, a unique material with special properties that allowed it to better withstand contact with plasma.

The space ports were underdeveloped, so it was somewhat hard to touch down, but the the Beyblade eventually did, and not long after the whole crew was going about unloading the cargo of nu metal so it could be processed. It was hard work, but the air was clear and a cold mist improved dispositions. They were done once the better part of the day had passed, and then back on the ship that was their home for the moment.

It took another two days to get the finished product from the factories. The next morning the urge to venture into the nature of Anaclee had arisen in a large number of the crew—Sonic's team included—and all of them disembarked for some sightseeing. Luckily one didn't have to go far in order to see something interesting, that is if you wanted to observe top-notch botany. And who doesn't? The salubrious effects of the greenery were amplified on the Rebels, who had gotten used to being enclosed within the metal walls of their ship.

Rey in particular had been sporting a perpetual grin since they had landed on the planet. She led the combat group on a merry excursion to see a nearby garden and waterfall. A lovely trip among the colorful alien plants, and a good excuse to further unwind. Rey made it clear that the experience counted as a communion with nature and therefore fitted into her training. It was not a convincing ploy, not that it needed to be, everyone was looking for an excuse to go, anyway.

The garden was a public landmark, and thus it had been wonderfully cultivated to showcase the variety of horticulture which thrived in the area. There were tall, wizened trees wrapped in a nearly transparent ivy (a guidebook that Sonic picked up at the entrance explained that this was a unique adaptation that allowed the vines to work more symbiotically with the leaves of the trees), thin stalks of purple reeds, and entracing flowers of every color. The air was heavy with the aromas of sweet pollen and earthy, rich dirt.

It was a dramatic change of pace for everyone who had wandered off that metal hewn vessel, homey though it was. There's just something about our silent, green companions that sparks a different longing in the heart. Sonic felt this strongly. He had been awed by the mighty quasar, but he found himself with more respect for the majesty of the serene plants, if only because they were alive and at peace. Everything that lives longs to rest so easily, except for plants, they are born without worry (the same argument could also made for bacteria as well as fungus, but they are less pretty and as such will be disregarded in this case). The plants also reminded Sonic of home, for Earth is still a green planet, no matter whatever anyone else says (especially you, David Attenborough. Blue Planet, my butt). The excitement of his friends helped sink this wistfulness, though.

Nish and Tyr ambled along the stone paths, taking their time to see each and every unique species that bounty had to offer. Nish elucidated her walking buddy on the scientific names of plants they came across, putting Sonic's guidebook to shame. Terho talked gaily with Magat as they sat on a wooden bench surrounded by the purple reeds. Rose had a rare smile on her face as she watched Finn admonish his boyfriend for removing a handful of flowers to give him as an offering—a decidedly romantic gesture, but also very against the rules.

Further along the path, the small waterfall could be found sending faint sprinkles of clear and sweet water into the air. It was here that most of the visitors ended up gravitating to. The waterfall was in two tiers: the first cascade led into a medium sized pool and from there drained down back into a stream. And quite luckily, the pool was open for swimming. Not so lucky was the fact that no one actually brought a swimsuit. But some fun could still be had, Sonic had no misgivings about stripping (the same was true for Porg, except he had no clothes to strip), and Tyr decided she didn't care if her clothes got soaked, so those three got the full benefit of the revitalizing water. Everyone else splashed around or waded as deep as they could reasonably afford; not a great pool experience, but better than none. At one point Rey went around the sides and split the waterfall open with her force powers like Moses so they could chill in that space for a bit.

It was a vital slow period in the otherwise busy lives of the Rebel fighters, and later that night, those that spent the day roaming breathed just a little bit easier, as one who lives a quarter parsec at a time.

Even with the memory of the garden lodging itself deep within the Rebels, they still had another day left on that planet, another day to maximize relaxation. The morning of the second day saw late wakings as well as copious, equal representation of the two chief breakfast drinks: coffee and tea (a couple of lovely freaks had orange juice instead). Nish had gone to bed early the previous night, so she got up at a very reasonable 10:00 AM. She strolled into the kitchen on their side of the ship and went straight to the large refrigerator by the wall. She grumbled as she rumbled through the contents. "The eggs ran out three weeks ago and now there's no fruit left", she complained, turning to Sonic and Finn who we're enjoying each other's company by the counter behind her.

"I know, we're running rather low on food supplies at the moment", Finn said in light frustration. "And Terho went through the last of the oats yesterday."

"Not the oats!", Nish groaned before taking a seat beside Sonic. She slumped down in the seat and slyly glanced at Sonic's Pop-tart-esq dry pastry, then moved her eyes inquisitively to his. Sonic took a sip of his tea and gestured graciously to his morning meal. She nodded politely before breaking a bit off and sliding it into her mouth.

"You know, I'd really not like to have to eat space rations again", Nish said after she had finished chewing.

Finn wiped the crumbs from his own breakfast off his chin. "You can buy supplies on your own, Nish. I don't think anyone would be bothered."

Nish scoffed. "Well, I can't just go down to the store, now can I?"

"Sure you can", Finn said matter-of-factly.

Nish was taken aback, but also piqued with curiosity. "Where?"

"There's a commercial district nearby, a few of the people from the lower deck found it yesterday."

Nish pressed her lips against each other in a tight line and started combing her hair with her fingers. "Is the quality of the products good?", she asked after a moment of thought.

"That's what I was told." Finn took another bite of his breakfast. "To tell the truth, there's some things I might want to get down there as well; maybe we can go together. Supplies on the Beyblade are tight at the moment, and we may not have another chance to restock for awhile"

Nish was smiling now. "Absolutely, the company would be very appreciated." She turned to Sonic. "You should come as well. We'll make an outing of it."

Sonic shrugged. "Why not?", he said rhetorically. "But first I've got to finish my food."

"Seconded", Finn chimed in.

The meals cleaned off and the two plates drying in the sink, the group of four (Finn had stopped by their room to check if his boyfriend needed anything they could get at the store, resulting in Poe deciding to tag along as well) exited the ship's elevator onto the moist grass of Anaclee. It was a clear day and the winged snake creatures that filled the same ecological niche that birds do on other planets were gliding on a gentle breeze. Nish had on a thin cotton t-shirt and faded, black denim jorts that were oddly fashionable on her frame. Poe and Finn were sporting casual warm weather well; thin pants as well as old utilitarian tees, both outfits in perfect harmony with each other. Sonic was still naked.

"Lead the way", Nish said indicating Finn. He pointed to a cobblestone on the right which trailed off into the distance. A leisurely stroll then commenced. The market district was only a ten minute walk away and the four Rebels spent the time soaking in the atmosphere around them.

"What pretty planet", Poe commented along the way. He nudged Finn with his elbow. "We should come back here after we destroy the First Order, take a long vacation."

Finn chuckled. "If we defeat the First Order."

"No", Poe said, pantomiming incredulity. "When." He chuckled as well. "But seriously, couldn't you see yourself coming back here?"

"Maybe. It is nice." Finn stuffed his hand in the pockets of his pants. "Though I'm not really thinking that far ahead. We can decide where we go when we come across that bridge. Currently I'm satisfied with our quarters on the ship."

Poe clicked his tongue playfully. "You're no fun."

"How about you, Sonic?", Finn asked looking back at the furry fighter. "You have any plans for after this is all over?"

Go home, he thought, but giving that answer would open the door to any number of difficult questions, so instead he told Finn that he hadn't thought that far either.

"Nish?", Finn went on.

"I might stick around to deal with the administrational issues that will surely come up once the dust clears. I'm pretty good with planning and whatnot"

"Bless your heart", Poe commented. "We need people who think ahead like you do."

"However", she went on. "A vacation in the short term does sound nice, perhaps take a month off after everything's over to reward myself."

Sonic himself didn't think that sounded too bad. And it was unlikely that he would find the Chocolate Starfish before they either won their battle or all died at the hands of the First Order. He could probably spare a month to wind down with his friends before he left, really he owed it to them. "We should all do that', he said aloud before he had realized it, then continuing when he noticed the others looking in his direction, "come back here for a little bit when it's over."

"And do what?", inquired Finn.

"Bask in victory", interjected Poe from beside his boyfriend, "that's what we'll do."

"I think it's a good idea", said Nish, "that is, it depends on how cool the financial district is."

Sonic exhaled sharply from his nose as if laughing. "Fair enough, we'll see when we get there."

They followed the path further and soon enough a dense clump of buildings came into sight, then as they got closer moving bodies appeared on the street ahead. "Not too shabby", commented Poe, "unexpected for a planet like this." Poe's eyes flitted around looking into one storefront window and then the next.

"Hmm", intoned Nish, "I was surprised as well when Finn first told me about this little financial district, but I've been thinking about it on our walk and it's starting to make more sense to me."

"How so?", Sonic asked with genuine curiosity.

"For one: there's a facility nearby with the means to process the large volume of nu metal that we brought in. And second: the port near here is not for a simple tourist destination, it can take freighters or massive ships like ours-- no small feat. So what I'm thinking is that Anaclee is going about further industrializing itself."

"You're right on the money, Nish", said Finn. "Literally. The people of Anaclee have just in the past decade begun to embrace the wonders of capitalism, and as such have added some new amenities to the local regions."

"I bet that ticks Rose off", laughed Poe.

"It does", Finn went on, "I talked her about it recently, and she thinks it a shame that 'such a healthy planet would steep to the lows of economic greed.'"

They had fully made it into the financial district at this point and Finn was stopped in front of a general supplies store. "This is where Poe and I will check out first", he said. "You're welcome to join us, but you two can go off on your own in feel like it; the real produce should be a little further down."

Nish glanced over to Sonic to gauge his assessment of the situation. He shrugged in response as if to say, It's up to you. "Alright then", Nish said, rubbing her chin. "We'll split up here, then we can meet back up by the spa we passed earlier at say... 1:00 pm?"

"Sounds good.", Finn said before entering into the store, Poe following behind him, two rings of a bell echoing out for each of them.

Sonic and Nish continued to go down the street of rough cobbled stone, built for foot traffic, on the way admiring the buildings surrounding them. Of wood and stone, the stores in that area had a naturally comfortable aura as if they were bleeding into the nature around them. From the moss and vines that adorned those buildings, Sonic figured that they may have been houses before they were converted into stores—the second floors might still serve as residences.

"About Rose", Sonic said, breaking the meditative silence of their walk, "is she like a communist or something?"

Nish turned her attention away from observing the people walking along the street and honed onto Sonic. "Oh, I'm not entirely sure. I doubt it though." She was about to go back to her contemplation when Sonic pressed on with the topic.

"Does it bother you, how Anaclee is adopting this new policy of capitalism?", he asked.

"I wonder", she said, rubbing her chin. "It's a complicated issue, and since this planet is new to me, I don't have much background knowledge to go on—you could say I have no real skin in the game. They do seem to be doing well so far, though." Nish gestured loosely to the stores on either side of them. "I'm generally not too critical of capitalism, it can be dangerous if you let it get out of hand, but as they say: all things in moderation. For now I think I'm alright reaping the material rewards. And you?", she asked. "What are your thoughts on all this?"

"I think that as long as no one's being stepped on, then I'm all right with it."

"Capitalism can lead to a great deal of people being stepped on, trampled, in fact", Nish said coyly.

"As you said, in moderation. Though, you're right, I do usually prefer systems with more oversight; just seems the rational thing to do."

"I hear you. There are some people naturally inclined toward greed or are otherwise economically antisocial. If you don't keep those individuals in check, then they'll cause no end of suffering." Nish exhaled deeply as if she had let something out with her words. "Then again", she said with more humor, "without capitalism I doubt we'd ever get something like that." Sonic saw that Nish was now pointing, and followed the line her finger made to a chalkboard advertisement in front of a store that claimed it was stocking "the highest quality nose sieve this side of the Dergon Asteroid Belt."

"What the heck is a nose sieve?'', Sonic said, just holding himself back from laughing loud enough to disturb the people walking near him.

"I think it's for allergies, but I also think it's a prime example of the values of excess."

Sonic and Nish marinated in the odd wonder of such a device as they went even further down the street. Somewhere in the distance, one of those snake birds swooped down a stole a person's kebab out their hands, eliciting another fit of laughter from the two former mercenaries. When they were finally settled down, Sonic saw that they had stumbled into a respectable seeming bookstore, the first bookstore of any kind he had seen since coming to this dimension. "Can we go in?', he asked, sounding more like child checking with their parent than he would have prefered.

"You read my mind!", Nish said excitedly. "I need some new reading material; I've been skimming through the same old books I found by the toilet in my room since we got onto the Beyblade. Mostly 'Reader's Digestion Tract'—Not very riveting prose."

They went into the building and were soon welcomed by the familiar aromas of old paper, along with recently printed ink. Sonic drank in the smells before breaking off to peruse the selection. The way Sonic went about his browsing, you would think he'd just been let off his leash; a bibliophile starved of their precious words is not so easily deterred. The selection that the store had was not really that large, but Sonic took his time combing through the various books, books he could never find in his home reality. Nish too, relished the opportunity to get more material for her hungry mind to chew through.

"Can I ask you a serious question?", Sonic said once they were solidedly into their browsing.

Nish was flipping through the pages of a book called Mirrored Casualties: the Ethical Implications of Using Genetically Identical Soldiers in the Clone Wars. "Fire away."

"What kind of economic system are we supporting?"

'Good question", Nish said, closing the book so she could fully consider the question. "Socialism, I believe. The previous Republic which the Rebellion splintered off of was based on a version of moderate socialism, so it stands to reason that we're going for the same thing."

Sonic felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders. After their discussion about Anaclee, he had started to doubt what actual policies were supported by the organization he was now dedicated to. Sonic was a layman where politics were concerned, but he had strong feelings about economic issues—something he had likely absorbed from one of Amy's many rants on the topic.

Sonic let the arising thoughts of capitalism vs. socialism fly from his mind like one of those winged snakes that roamed the planet, let them bother him no more. This was supposed to be a relaxing trip, and it's difficult to relax when you've got miniature versions of Adam Smith and Leon Trotsky arguing on his shoulders. So Sonic turned back to one his true passions: browsing through the selections at a bookstore. He found texts speculating on the true nature of the Force, manuals for understanding the different dialects of droid, but he eventually settled on a medium sized novel about a space pirate with crippling social anxiety, which had one of those gold stickers on the cover marking it as a "best seller".

What a rare opportunity, he thought, I get to read something I would never be able to find at home.

Little did he know that at that exact same time, on his Earth, Stephen King had just woken up covered in sweat and was frantically jotting down notes for his own book.... one with roughly the same plot. In most realities with a written language you can find at least one book eerily resembling something Stephen King has done.

Sonic found a few other novels that struck his fancy, which he added to what had become stack. Recalling Rey's history as an avid reader, Sonic also got her a copy of the book he first picked out. He figured she would appreciate it as a distraction from her daily training exercises. Sonic also secretly hoped they could talk about it when they were both finished.

"I can't believe there are people out there who can still write with all that's going on", Sonic said once they had finally made it to the checkout counter.

"Even in the midst of a war the populace needs to be entertained somehow", replied Nish as she exchanged with the teller her credits for the book she had picked out on the history of military conflicts from the Clone Wars to the fall of the Empire. "There will always be some people who will create that entertainment. And I'm glad those people are selfish enough to stay indoors in order to give us a chance to forget our troubles."

"Long live uncensored ink", Sonic said as they left the bookstore.

"As long as we do our job, it will be longed lived", Nish said semi-seriously.

After getting back onto the street, Nish and Sonic wandered their way to the produce store Finn had mentioned. The wind was picking up, and Sonic watched it winnow Nish's hair in wild tendrils as his own fur moved to its rhythms. Shoes clapped against the cobblestone, underscoring with soft sounds the voices of those walking around. The sun was starting it's descent, and would in a few hours sink back into the horizon.

They picked up a good deal of produce, strange vegetables and richly coloured fruits. Nish got the milk and eggs she was looking for in the morning (Sonic was a little frightened by the blue hue of the milk, but no one else in the store regarded it as abnormal, so he just chalked it down to being an exotic variety). Wisely, they also purchased some cured meats to enjoy in the near, and not so near future. When all was said and done, they had made a critical dent in the credits they had received on their first job, which now was dulling to a distant memory for Sonic.

Nish and Sonic heard a ruckus from outside while they were checking out, and after they had exited the small produce shop, they passed a strange pair in handcuffs—presumably the perpetrators. So much for a verdant paradise; It seemed even Anaclee saw its fair share of crime. 

Nish and Sonic then went to the spa serving as their meeting spot. They were the first ones there, and waited some twenty minutes outside in the calm weather before Finn and Poe came along carrying their spoils of the day.

It had been a productive trip, the group having acquired a good deal of supplies for future journey. Soon all four of them were going the other way on the same path they had traveled earlier that day. This time, though, they had to take a short break halfway along—carrying their shopping bags with them was pretty tiring, and in retrospect Finn commented that maybe they should have brought backpacks to ease the burden. If you've ever tried to carry all your groceries in one trip, you may sympathize with their plight. But with the break they were able to return to the Beyblade in a reasonable timeframe. The sight of the massive ship from a distance was kept their spirits strong enough to push onward until they all collapsed once inside the elevator, their arms burning like they had just completed the workout of a competitive bodybuilder.

Hours later, and after they had indulged in a solid power nap, Poe called over everyone else in the top floor, convincing them in fist and burst to join together in a effort to make a special meal with the produce they had bought. Poe took the helm as the de facto head chef, sizzling up the meat for the omnivores, as well as veggies and soy protein for the vegetarians (Re. Rey and Porg). Sonic helped out a little with the prepwork, pitching in by preparing the pans, but he really hadn't learned much of anything cooking-related during his stint with the gastronomical master, Guy Fieri, and so couldn't do much more than that.

It was a wonderful dinner, though, noticeably different than the mostly prepared meals they usually took on the ship. Fresh meals nourish the soul just as well as they do the body, a boon the rebels could still use, even after their day in the garden (fighting a fascist regime is weary work). Even the residual aroma of melted butter that permeated throughout the kitchen brought with it a certain sense of comfort to the otherwise not-entirely-homey ship.

Rey was a slightly miffed that no one had informed her about the trip to the financial district, but her mood improved when Sonic handed off the little present he had gotten her. She seemed to truly appreciate the gesture, and gave Sonic a casual hug as thanks, telling him she'd give him meditation lessons if he ever wanted them. Sonic told her that in the future he very well might take her up on that offer.

That evening all of them went to bed with especially full bellies. A few of them (whose names will remain unsaid for posterity) summarily woke up later in the night and spent a good deal of time in their bathrooms, dealing with the consequences of choosing to ignore their lactose intolerance.

The following day the minerals had been finished processing, and each of them were thankful for the increased energy imparted on them by the large meal the night prior as they went about moving the now-refined nu metal to the ship. At this point, the nu metal had been purified (the surrounding rock and dirt melted out) as well as made into ingots, so the lost mass was made them comparatively less heavy, but the task was still neither easy or brief.

As they were first departing to get the minerals from the factory, Sonic noticed that, for some reason, the head commander of the intelligence officers had one of the local winged snakes resting on his head. Even more curiously, he thought he heard it say 'good morning' to him. As it turned out, the snake-like creatures were actually a suitable host for Mrisada, who had chosen not to look a gift-horse in the mouth, and bonded with one of the reptiles after Chewie had caught it. Mrisada told him that it was only a quick-fix for the moment and that they were still on the lookout for an animal with appendages more suited to actually picking things up.

"That said", they continued while following Sonic to the ship with his load of nu metal, "I have to admit that there is a clear advantage to being able to fly. I may come to stay in this body for a little longer." Mrisada then flew off to oversee the rest of the transfer. Sonic wondered what kind of diet they would be on now—other than street kebabs, that is.

The ingots were all taken into the ship's hold for storage while central command decided what the best uses of them would be; either to sell them or use the ingots themselves to make more weapons. Either way, the entire crew seemed happy with seeing the tangible rewards for their battle earlier, as well as the progress it indicated for the cause. Nu metal was quite a valuable thing to have, and whatever was done with it would give another tool to leverage against the First Order.

Their business on Anaclee concluded, preparation were made to embark as soon as possible. Rey took the helm this time, feeling somewhat more up to the job after spending the last two days recharging. System checks and minor repairs had been done on the ship while they were waiting, so everything was ready to go when the crew had all been accounted for. During all the excitement, Sonic plopped himself down on the closest couch and started cracking into his new book.

It was bittersweet to leave Anaclee, a planet that earned much good will from him. But for now he still had to be moving forward. It was at the same time reassuring to be back in the pace he had unwittingly become used to; that is, always with somewhere to go, something to do. The heavy engines kicked in as Sonic read. Absorbed in the fictional space pirate's expacades, he hardly noticed that they were in the air, soon to soar through the void of space.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, just the same old same old. More adventures were waiting for him and his friends. In the moment, though, he was content to simply read adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter! It's a bit of a long one, so I hope it didn't seem to drag. What did you think about the new developments with Ji-Yu? I wanted to flesh her out and felt this would be a good way to do so. I actually have some more scenes planned for her and Agatha. Give me your impressions in comments, I like getting feedback on this :)


	12. Space Invaders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Beyblade has an uncomfortable encounter with a First Order star destroyer, and the Rebels take a lesson out the pirate handbook as they try the their hands at boarding.

The top of the Beyblade pushed gently through the scant cloud covering above Anaclee, ever defying the planet’s insistent hold on it. They rose past the edge of the gravitational field, and suddenly they were rising no longer, nor were they falling, but could be considered suspended were if not for the engines moving the ship further into space. The wiring was quickening with electricity and all hands were on deck; the ship was nearly ready to go into hyperspace.

Rey’s hand was heading for the throttle when a massive shudder ran through the ship, jostling her from her seat and onto the floor of the cockpit. Rey got up with the ships alarm blaring around her. She looked to Terho in the seat beside her.

“What was that?”, she asked anxiously.

Terho shook the daze from his head and quickly checked his monitor. “I think… I think we’ve been hit”, he stuttered.

Rey stood herself up straight, the chemicals already coming into her bloodstream making her alert at the behest of her frantically working brain.

“Hit us? What did? An asteroid? Debris?” She turned her own monitor so it was facing her and started to try and parce what was going on. Her eyes and fingers moved hurriedly, imprecisely under the pressure, but she was nevertheless able to pull up the correct feeds. When she figured out was happening, her pupils dilated to become the same proportion and color as charred pancakes (a sight Rey was well familiar with, having botched all of her attempts at making breakfast; a born cook she was not). But thoughts of pancakes were whisked away by the flood of fear brought on by the sight of the Star Destroyer coming towards them.

“Take evasive action”, she shouted to her co-pilot, “we’re under attack!” Rey flipped a few switches to arm the ships weaponry. “And send out a message on the main comm system: everyone on board is to do all they can to repel this Star Destroyer, be that manning a gun or readying to close any hull breaches.”

Terho strapped himself into his seat. “Copy.”

Rey drank in two-lungfuls of air to calm herself as she tried to figure out what to do next. This was the moment that she had been fearing: when everyone she knew and valued were packed up in a metal box about to be shot through with high powered lasers. She needed to find them an out—and fast.

“...Rey.” She heard Terho call out her name the second time and snapped back into her surroundings.

“What?” Rey said asked without force. She had settled her nerves somewhat and her voice reflected that.

“I’ve pulled us far enough away; we can go to lightspeed right now. Just give me the order.”

Of course. All they had to do was jump away, it was as simple as that. It was silly of her to panic as she had, a nervous reaction. But… they had found them, and back at the market too. Come to think of it, Rey doubted Sonic’s run-in with the Knight of Ren was coincidence either. No, they were tracking them, maybe not in the same way as they had before Krait—the active tracking system almost definitely went down with the Supreme Emperor’s ship—but these meetings were not random back luck. And if they ran away, then what was to stop that bad luck from following them wherever they ended up?

Rey held her hand up to Terho, signalling him to wait. “Not yet. I want to try something else out.” 

“Excuse me?”

Terho was nonplussed, he figured the only reason they weren't yet halfway to the next solar system was that Rey had been too in shock to give have him do it.

Rey looked at him with fierce, sharp eyes. “I have a plan. You’re going to have to trust me, though.”

Terho blinked a couple times. Had she gone crazy? No, her mind was clear, he could tell that. “Okay, I trust you. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Rey nodded firmly. “Good. You take the helm. All you have to do is keep us at a good distance from them—outside cannon range if you can. We just got this ship; I don't want it getting blown up yet.”

Rey got up hastily and opened the door separating the cockpit from the rest of the ship.

“Where are you going?”, Terho asked, all of the brainpower he wasn’t using on piloting the ship directed at trying to get a firm grasp on the situation.

“You said you trust me; no backsies”, he heard Rey say from down the hallway. There was a thrill in her voice that made him think of a difficult child about to do something very impressive and very upsetting for their parents. And considering Rey was the Rebellion’s ‘Iron Maiden’, this made him both very worried and very excited. Terho smiled to himself in the darkly lit cockpit.

Whatever was about to happen, it would make for an exciting story later. Now what remained to be seen was whether he would be telling that story to other people or his fellow dead in the underworld.

Rey’s shoes smacked loudly against the ground as she rushed to her destination. This is foolish, a part of herself said. Not foolish, said the other, more fun side of herself that went to parties despite the warnings it got from the first side, it’s a weighted decision, a calculated risk. We’re taking things into our hands, and we’re going to look damn stylish as we do it.

The first side grumbled angrily but said nothing back; fun people are often more convincing, and because Rey had a skewed idea of what fun looked like, her fun side also considered studying argumentative theory an enjoyable pastime. Frankly, there wasn’t much of a competition between the two.

It had to be the right decision, though—what Rey was doing, that is—she had thought about it and this was solidly the correct course of action. It was dangerous, yes, but if things went right, then it would also be a proverbial kick to the groin of the First Order. She kept running past the rooms and halls of the Beyblade until she finally found who she was looking for… well actually she was looking for any of about eight people, but the person out those of four that she happened to run into first was Sonic. And lucky for her that he was that one.

“Sonic...” she said, her ragged breath breaking in at the end, “I need to talk to you.”

Sonic was naturally very surprised to see Rey come up next to him, thinking that she was piloting the ship.

“What’s going on? Terho said we were under attack. I’m trying to find an open laser cannon.” He shook his head. “But what are you doing here?”

Rey waved her hand in front of him, that wasn’t the important thing here.

“Don’t worry, Terho’s taken charge of piloting. But I have something else to tell you. First, I want you to tell me if you know where everyone else is.”

“Oh, they’re all safe, they took up the other cannons.”

“And you could find them if you needed to?”

Sonic looked into Rey’s eyes, hoping to find a sign of what she was thinking. “Well, yes, but—”

“Good”, Rey cut him off and sighed deeply in relief, and also to catch her breathe more. “Because I have message for them.”

The collected residents of the Beyblades upper level stood around nervously in the ship’s hanger. Rey had sent Sonic to run off and tell them to meet her there, and Sonic had summarily done so at his extreme speed. No one was entirely sure what was about to happen—not even Sonic was clear on the plan. But he had an inkling of what it might be, and it scared somewhat, as being on the top of a very tall building might scare someone; the ‘I kind of want to jump off’ sort of way.

“I’m going to get straight to the point”, Rey said with a voice hard as stone, “I want us to take the small cruisers and take on that huge Star Destroyer currently bullying us.”

Silence engulfed the hanger. Everyone was looking at each other, trying to feel out their consensus on what Rey just said.

Rey cleared her throat and started again, “I know this is not what you may have been expecting to hear from me, but I believe this is what we need to do.” Still silence. “Up until now we haven’t gotten a good chance to give the First Order a proper counterattack; this could be our opportunity.”

“Rey”, Poe responded shakily, “All of here probably share your feelings in this, but attacking a Star Destroyer? Doesn’t that seem to reckless? And, trust me, I know how much you can end up regretting reckless.”

“It will be dangerous, but I wouldn’t propose this unless I legitimately believed it was worth the danger, and that we had a good chance of making it out alive.”

“All of us?”, Rose said grimly, “Or just you and a handful?”

“All of us”, Rey intoned firmly.

“Pardon”, said Sonic meekly, “but not all of us know how to fly.”

Rey turned around to face him. “That’s alright—better, even, because some of you are going to need to be ready to board.”

“Board?” Sonic asked.

Rey’s face brightened. “That’s correct, board their ship. Myself and whichever of you are willing to join me, are going to get onto that huge Star Destroyer and take it apart from the inside. When we’re done we can jump in whatever escape pods have opened up from the destruction we’ve caused and hop out of there.”

The tension in the room had become a heavy blanket pressing down on all of them. “I’m down”, Tyr broke in at last.

Rey sighed in relief. “Thank you”, she said as she gestured gratefully towards Tyr.

“Yeah”, Tyr went on, “realistically I don’t have anything more to lose than what’s on this ship, so I don’t mind putting my life on the line to defend it.”

“Well put”, Finn contributed, “I’m ready as well… to put my life on the line, that is—oh, you understand.” Tyr gave him a sympathetic thumbs up.

Seeing the first two agree to Rey’s plan assuaged the fears of the rest of them, and they too declared their intent to join in on the mission.

“Wonderful”, Rey said, “I knew you wouldn’t let me down. Here’s the breakdown: Poe, Finn, and myself will be together on the Falcon, with myself and Finn serving as the boarding members for that group. Mangat, you can pilot the transport ship with Sonic and Tyr on it as the two boarding members. Chewie, you will take the Marauder class with Rose and Nish, Nish serving as that group’s boarding member. That sound good to all of you?”

“Is the Falcon really up to snuff for a run like this?” asked Nish.

“It’s made it through worse” replied Rey, “there’s probably a reason for that.”

“I have a question”, Finn said without inflection. “How are we going to take out an entire Star Destroyer by ourselves?” Then a light came into his eyes, “oh, the command deck.”

Star Destroyers are, by all rights, gargantuan ships. Practically mobile cities, the infamous vessels of the Empire and the First Order hold a crew that should more appropriately be called a population, as well as a collection of weapons that could only be called an arsenal (and not one for democracy, either). Such ships were the scourge of the Rebellion for a reason. When it came to attack and defence, they were among the most formidable battlecruisers around. But they had a weakness, as all goliaths do. In this case: the command deck.

Your ship can have all the guns and armor in the galaxy, but it won’t mean anything if you can’t pilot it. There was only one place you could pilot a star destroyer from, and that was its command deck. Now, you may think this an oversight on the part of the designers of those ships, but in truth the command deck was a creative solution to a complex problem. See, a ship of that size could not have multiple methods of piloting it without creating a dangerous amount of confusion should there ever be a breakdown in communication leading to, say, two people trying to move the ship simultaneously, not to mention how much of a pain it would’ve been to install wiring that could support a dual-pilot system. So instead the designers of the Star Destroyer decided to have a single command deck safely ensconced in the rear of the ship, with the forcefield strengthened around it for good measure.

As a result, the command deck was fortified, it was protected. No small craft could race up to it without being blown into oblivion, and the forcefield would deflect most fire. For that exact reason, the officers stationed in the command center on that Star Destroyer floating off Anaclee were still feeling pretty safe when the scanner picked up three blips coming right towards them.

“We’ve got incoming”, called out the officer whose screen first received the information. “Looks like the Rebels are trying to get us off the tail of their main ship. Distractions, it would appear.”

“No”, responded a voice from the back of the room, a soft, young voice like worn black leather. “Their main ship hasn’t gone into hyperspace yet; that either means it’s incapable of doing so, or that those three ships have every intention of coming back to it.”

The officer swiveled their head around to face the owner of that leather voice. “Your orders then, sir?”

The voices of the other officers had died down since this exchange had begun taking place. The room waited in bated breath for this ‘sir’ to issue their orders.

“Send out a few tie fighters to meet those pitiful Rebels”, they said after adjusting in their seat. “Ready the laser cannons as well. Ren entrusted us with this job and this precious ship; I won’t have us taking any chances.”

The officer nodded and moved themselves to face their screen again. Fools, he thought to himself, going up against us all alone. They have no idea what’s waiting for them.

The transport ship was going fast, and Sonic could feel it this time. He wasn’t sure the ship was ever intended to go as fast as it was, but under Mangat’s control it would, whether it wanted to or not. Sonic held onto a bar set into the wall as he watched Mangat move his hands wildly on the control panel in front of him. Tyr leaned against the wall with a serious look on her face—an actual serious look, an ‘I’m ready to bathe in blood’ kind of face, not the resting seriousness that her scars normally lended to her.

“You two might want to strap in or something”, Mangat said, “it’s going to get… turbulent, and it would be uncomfortable for all of us if you were rolling around in the cabin.”

Sonic went up to the co-pilot seat and wrapped the seat belt around his body. Tyr stayed where she was. “I’m good here”, she said, “there’s enough to hang onto should I need to.”

Mangat chuckled. “Okay. I don’t think it’d be worth fighting you on that.” His words echoed subtly against the wall and then died in the air. No one was much in the mood for talking. After a few moments, Tyr walked up to where Sonic was sitting. “Would you like a knife?” she asked suddenly. SPeeding toward their possible doom, she had been considering ways to give their rag-tag operation a better chance of survival, and had concluded they might last longer if everyone involved was actually armed.

“Yes, please”, responded Sonic without much consideration. And as Tyr passed him a frighteningly sharp steel blade, added, “I would appreciate it if you could lend me another gun, also.”

Tyr shrugged. She certainly had enough to spare. “Sure, just get it back to me, as usual.”

“Hey, Sonic”, interjected Mangat as he stared past the glass viewscreen. “Do you by chance know how to use a mounted laser?”

“You mean the little joystick thing on my side? Yeah, Terho told me about it a little while back. Am I going to have to use it?”

“Yep, there are a couple of tie fighters coming our way so if you could just…”

Sonic gripped the cylindrical control in front of him and hit the buttons he vaguely remembered readied the weapon. “On it”, he said, with a little uncertainty. The small ‘H’-shaped crafts were coming at them swiftly in a close formation. Sonic shot off two beams that flared brightly and promptly roared above the first tie fighter, missing it completely.

“Crap”, Sonic mumbled under his breath. He kept firing, but was only able to graze the wing of one ship before they were able to make their first pass. The tie fighters returned fire at Sonic’s ship, and proved to be a little more accurate than the plucky hedgehog. The transport ship lurched from the impact of the laser shot on the hull. Mangat swerved them upwards to try and get more distance.

“Fire as much as you can once you see them again”, he advised loudly, “more shots means a greater chance of hitting something… usually.”

The other two Rebel ships were fairing somewhat better. For whatever reason (most likely because it was the largest of the three) the transport ship was targeted by a disproportionate amount of tie fighters, as well as suffered from having one of the less experienced crews. In contrast, Chewie and Rose operated as a crack team, gliding elegantly on the strength of the ship’s propulsion while Chewie laid out a thick fire against the few tie fighters that approached them. The Falcon was sailing smoothest of them all, Rey overjoyed to be back in its cockpit, and Poe being the crack shot he always was.

Sonic’s body was tense in the seat as the tie fighters returned in the viewscreen. He eased his breath and trusted his keen eyes to guide his hands. A shot tore through one of the tie fighters, causing it to explode and critically damage another fighter next to it.

“That’s it, Sonic”, Mangat called out excitedly. “Just two more now. I’ll get us right next to ‘em.” Mangat turned the ship sharply, forcing Tyr to tighten her grip on the doorframe to the cockpit, and got them face-to-face with the remaining tie fighters on their tail. Sonic blasted both of them in turn, having now put himself in a more composed state.

The three Rebel ships raced forward to the Star Destroyer as its laser cannons begun their salvo. The black plasma of space shone with the neon green and red of the discharges. Rebel ships flew wildly, weaving between the lasers and positioning to deal with attacking tie fighters. Sonic felt a nausea building in his head from the unnatural movement and physical pressure. Mangat was resolutely engrossed in flying. Tyr had given up trying to keep herself standing during the skirmish and gradually inched her way into a proper seat further back. She thought it impractical to be wasting so much energy barely holding herself up against the wall during the tailspins. On the brightside, and contrary to modern conceptions, they heard no sounds unless an impact was made with their ship, so the hectic situation was gracefully untranslated into anything audible.

Soon they were close enough to the Star Destroyer for it to take up much of their visual field. A message then broke into the near silence of the transport ship. It was from Rey. “Mangat, Chewie; head for the main hangar. It should be open to allow the tie fighters out—that’s where we can make our entrance. All members of the boarding team should get ready now, we’re going to meet tough resistance to say the least. That’s all for now. May the force be with us.”

There was a tinge of giddiness hidden in Rey’s commanding tone. Sonic took that as a good sign. He took his gun in his hands and slipped on the belt with Tyr’s dagger attached to it. “Our drop is coming up”, he shouted to the back of the ship.

“Cool”, was all Tyr responded with. He figured she was just as excited as Rey, but it would take true, furious combat to make her show it. Sonic made it his goal for this mission to perform well enough to not be totally shown up by her. It was a longshot, but they had already overcome worse odds just by getting as close to the Star Destroyer as they had.

Mangat was sweating from keeping his focus throughout every tearing laser blast, spinning and soaring from the suppressing fire. If this had been a flying expo, he may have won some kind of award. He pulled them up to the side of the Star Destroyer—so close he could’ve scratched it with the ship’s wing if he moved a few feet—and followed the line of the gray metal. The hanger stood out in the distance as a faint rectangle of sky blue built into the outside walls of the Star Destroyer.

“And our next stop is approaching on your left”, Mangat said, imitating any one of the myriad public transportation systems in the galaxy. “If you look directly ahead of us, you can see two locals coming in our direction ahead.”

Sonic hit the trigger on his control.

“Oh. Well, there were two locals.”

The Falcon was the first of the three ships to slip past the semipermeable membrane separating the hangar from the vacuum outside. Chewies marauder was next to go in, followed by the transport ship. Sonic felt their ship grate to a stop on the metal floor of the hangar and hastily unbuckled his seatbelt. He went into the room adjoining the cockpit, where Tyr was cracking her neck and joints in order to get pumped before going out. She looked at him knowingly and went after him to the door that led outside the ship.

“Be safe”, Mangat shouted after them before starting the engine up to make his leave along with the other Rebel pilots.

Sonic’s feet touched down on the Star Destroyer, and he saw the hangar was in complete chaos. Stormtroopers were scrambling to get weapons or attend to their wounded; others were simply trying to exit their partially fueled tie fighters before they got blasted to all hell. In the last days on Anaclee, Rey had finished reconstructing her lightsaber, and was using it to cut down the stormtroopers in her path. Screams rang out and limbs were separated from their bodies and chest cavities ripped open to the burning edge of the light sword. Blood boiled to a sickening steam upon meeting the last Jedi ancient weapon.

Finn was blasting away at anyone who got too close to their formation, and Nish had broke off to the edges of the battle and was slicing into the more vulnerable stormtroopers with her luminent blue dagger. A stalking panther upon terrified jungle prey, her hair twirled around as she spun and buried her daggers into exposed necks, or sliced through tendons at the weak points in armor. The First Order forces were already being routed from the hangar as Tyr and Sonic came out. A few more deft headshots from Tyr’s rifle and they had the room to themselves. You could smell the lingering fear among a burned-copper aroma.

Rey deactivated her lightsaber and looked around the mild carnage with a mixture of satisfaction and regret.

“A strong start to our blitz”, she said. “This ship is obviously fairly large, but as long as we keep going up and to the back, we’ll get to the command deck eventually. I’m thinking we should take the service routes as to avoid as much combat as possible. Is everyone comfortable with that?”

Nish, Sonic, Finn, and Tyr responded with various grunts and articulations of approval. “Okay, then let’s keep moving, we have a lot of ground to cover. And remember to stay together, everyone is vital for this mission. Now, Finn, you have the best knowledge of these types of ships out of all of us; where should we head from here?”

Finn took a second to get his bearings and scrub the dust of his memories as a servant of the First Order. He frowned briefly as the machinery in his head fell into place with the layout he was faced with.

“There”, he pointed to a doorway a little way in the distance, and then Rey took the lead in that direction. They jogged (running would waste more energy than was necessary) through the corridors and empty rooms as they traveled in enemy territory.

“Not as many hostile as I expected”, Nish said along the way.

“No, most of the stormtroopers were likely told to be sent to the main hallways off of the hangar. They wouldn’t predict us to take the path that we have”, said Finn. “Actually, it’s a bit circuitous if I’m being honest, but we’ll save time from all of the skirmishes we’ll avoid.”

“Hmm”, Nish regarded softly, catching sights into open doorways and at the quarters of the stormtroopers, all abandoned for the moment. “The place seems so empty.”

“Not surprising”, said Rey from the front. “They’re short on staff thanks to our efforts; they don’t have the people to spare populating this whole thing. We’ll see more the deeper in we get.”

So they went farther along with their senses alert, the darkened rooms and abandoned halls passing them by. Sonic thought the Star Destroyer was sadder on the inside than the imposing exterior would lead one to believe. “Reminds me of the Beyblade”, he said after some fifteen odd minutes. “Hardly a soul around in these middle layers.”

“Good”, Rey replied, her voice cold.

At last they made it to one of the service elevators and all four of the Rebels rushed in. Quiet classical music drifted down from the speakers above as they rode up to the top level that elevator could reach. Tyr hummed along with the melody. It was a catchy tune, even Sonic would admit, a little baroque in style.

“There will be the highest concentration of stormtroopers up here”, Finn said over the music and creaking of the elevator. “Be ready for a fight.”

The numbers on the wall lit up one after another until the one at the top was reached, turning yellow under the opaque plastic. There was a ‘ding’ and the doors slid open slowly to show three figures in glossy white armor. The stormtroopers raised their weapons only to have them cut in half by Rey’s lightsaber, their throats following next in the order.

The Rebels stepped over the collapsed bodies and out into another corridor. A laser beam screeched down it, to be immediately deflected by Rey’s lightsaber. Two more stormtroopers emerged out of their cover, ready to attack. With a flick of her wrists, Nish sent her daggers on a collision course with their skulls, the blades slide through the bone. Within a nanosecond the stormtroopers had slunked down to the ground, limp.

Nish yawned and walked slowly up to the corpses, then pulled the daggers back out of their helmets. She turned around to show the blades to the other Rebels. “See?”, she said, “plasma burns the blood right off. Not as good as a lightsaber, but just as clean. You could into a steak with these right now without having to worry about any diseases transferring over.”

Tyr squinted to get a better look at the weapons in Nish’s hands. “Impressive. I should get myself a pair. Nish, could you give me your supplier’s infromation after this?”

Nish was about to answer, but was interrupted by Finn. “You can exchange trade secrets later”, he said sternly. “We’re kind of on a schedule here.” Finn shook his head disappointedly as he passed Nish on his way further down the corridor. Rey and Sonic came after him, Sonic giving a deferential shrug when Nish looked at him indignantly. Tyr, too, followed Finn, but when she passed Nish, mouthed the words ‘we’ll talk’.

The Stormtroopers kept coming in pairs and small groups. Sometimes the Rebels would simply stumble on the soldiers going about their business, on each occasion the Stormtroopers were dispatched before a real firefight could break out. It got to the point where each of them took turns killing the troopers when they came across them.

“I’m going to be honest”, Rey stated after hacking through her tenth or so odd kill that day, “this is going better than I had anticipated.”

“Your welcome”, Finn said unabashedly. “Doesn’t hurt having a former member of the First Order on the team, now does it?”

“The poor souls”, Sonic said, his softer side rearing its head once again (in fact, all of Sonic’s side were soft, but that’s in a more literal regard). “They just keep coming. You’d hope they’d have learned by now that strength in numbers won’t avail you when those numbers are being constrained to a three-file line.”

Rey scoffed. “They don’t teach these troopers too much where self preservation is concerned. All the better for us.”

“Very true”, Finn chimed in. “I’m lucky to have gotten out when I did.”

“Lucky for us too”, Rey laughed. But her laughter was cut short when Tyr raised her hand quickly in the air, then moving a single finger over her lips. The sound of footsteps became audible once the Rebels quieted down, the sound of many, many footsteps. Rey bared her lightsaber before her body in both hands, the iconic stance of the jedi (and also, incidentally, of Japanese kendo). “Here they come”, she said, “more lambs to the slaughter.”

“It’s your turn, I believe”, Sonic said to Rey. The footsteps came louder. “But maybe this calls for more than one of us.”

Rey closed her eyes and centered herself. “We will see.”

The white armor appeared in the distance and then there was a clinking against the tiles on the ground. A round, metal ball rolled up to the Rebels. The ball was beeping Rey looked down at it, unimpressed, and taking a hand off her weapon, used the Force to propel it back to Stormtroopers rushing down. The plasma grenade exploded before it touched the ground again, the explosion created taking out most of the walls along with all but four of the troopers. Sonic blasted those last four while they were still dazed from the concussive burst.

“Dang”, exclaimed Nish once the smoke had cleared. “We can’t be too close to the deck, or else they wouldn’t have risked blowing through their own hull.”

“Let’s make double time, then”, said Rey. “Terho and the others on the Beyblade can only hold out for so long.”


	13. Rhapsodic Malaise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new challenger appears! The Rebels find that the Star Destroyer hold more threats than just stormtroopers, as another Knight of Ren presents himself. Additionally, snacks are raided.

“They’re getting closer,” said a frantic First Order officer. Other voices could be heard talking on comm systems, their words mixing with the sharp clacking of keyboards and tapping on screens. 

“How many?” asked the young man lurking in the back of the room. “And how close?” He spoke calmly in the midst of the cacophony surrounding him.

“We estimate around five, sir. The Jedi, Rey, is believed be with them,” replied the first officer. “They should now be somewhere on the floor below us.”

“Fine, then,” exclaimed the young man in mild frustration, “I’ll go myself.” He exhaled deeply. “Left to clean up Ji-Yu’s failure, and now my own troops aren’t even useful. Such a hassle, these Rebels.” The young man pulled his lithe body out of the chair and went to the door behind him. “Everyone stay here,” he said on his way out, “I’ll be back soon enough.”

“There can only be so much ship left,” Sonic huffed as they continued their less than leisurely jog through the bowels of the Star Destroyer. “Or Stormtroopers for that matter.”

“We’re nearly there… I think,” said Finn. “My memory of this place isn’t great. I was only stationed on one of these ships for a handful of months, and my clearance was far from high enough to get me easy access to the top levels.”

“Whatever,” Nish mumbled. “Just tell us when you see a landmark or something. Better yet, be on the lookout for a floor map.” Nish was now trailing behind a little; her body wasn’t made for long distance and the toll was becoming more apparent as her breath went ragged. “You may have to give me another piggy-back ride, Rey.”

“No, that was a one time deal. Get Tyr to do it.”

Tyr shook her head heavily when Nish turned to face her.

The group passed another corner and Finn stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he looked out at a large, open room up ahead. “Oh, the gourmet mess hall, now that I remember. I used to clean in there sometimes, and sneak little desserts when the officers weren’t looking. There’s stairway in there that leads right to the top level so the higher ups could get their tea and snacks while on duty, the greedy little snakes.”

“Nice work,” Rey said excitedly. “Let’s wrap this up. And maybe take some treats to go.” She laughed dryly. “Get it? Wrap up? Like wraps the food, or when you wrap your leftovers in a little napkin? It’s like a double joke. You could even say it’s two jokes wrapped in one.” Her comrades were silent, and their silence had force.

“Fine, I guess it’s not funny if you have to explain it. Anyway, we should go destroy that command deck.” The others seemed satisfied with that brief comment as penance and they moved on.

“The snacks are still on the table though, right?”, Sonic asked, the doors to the gourmet mess hall now almost right before them.

“Oh absolutely”, the others cried out in practical unison.

The mess hall doors swung open and the Rebels streamed into the large room.

They were not alone.

A young man was winding his way through the tables and paused in surprise when he saw the people who were now his company. He wore a dark black outfit, as most members of the First order do, except his was not a uniform but a simple silk shirt and flowing pants. His lips were covered in a black makeup, and his glacier cold eyes were surround with smudged mascara that was also—you guessed it—very black. A sleek sword rested tamely at his hip.

The Rebels were not naturally bloodthirsty (well, four of them weren’t), but given the circumstances, the first reaction from each of them was to draw their weapons. The young man stared back at them blankly.

“You all have made it very noisy in here”, he said with a voice so soft and mild that Sonic took him to be timid. The young man was an usual sight for Sonic; the color schemes of his outfit were right, but somehow Sonic didn’t think that the really belonged with the First order. The man didn’t have the same instinctual traits as the other, non-stormtrooper members of the First Order Sonic had encountered; there wasn’t any obvious rage or arrogance to him, nor even a lust for power (if that is something one can even pick up on at first glance). Though by being where he was, and armed, no less, there wasn’t realistically another option than him being an officer, or worse, a Knight.

The others were just as puzzled as Sonic, and so the young man was spared being immediately riddled with holes and cuts by their blasters. “Put down your weapon and you can leave,” cautioned Finn, motivated equally by an innate quality of forgiveness as by a strong desire to leave intact any leftovers present in the room.

“Which of you is Rey?” asked the young man. He showed no sign of having heard Finn’s warning.

“That doesn’t matter,” Finn said sternly. “Now, you can either leave without your weapon. or not leave at all. It’s up to you.”

“Not the blue one, nor likely the short non-blue one,” continued the man with increasing sang-froid, “so out of the three remaining I would guess Rey is you with the bold haircut.” He pointed at Tyr, who seemed flattered by the mention of her hair, as well as who she was mistaken for. “If you surrender, presuming that you are actually Rey, then I won’t have to spend time with the rest of your friends.” The young man spoke unhurriedly, almost with the same tint of lethargy that Nish often did, but his words rang sinister in the ears of the Rebels.

“That’s a very presumptuous thing to say,” the real Rey jumped in. “I think we’re the ones with leverage here.”

The young man cocked his head. “I didn’t mean it that way. It would be preferable to avoid doing more than I would have to, and I don’t mind if the rest of you get away; Ren told me only to deal with Rey, be she dead or alive.” The young man then smiled wan as he figured something out. “And you must be Rey. Sorry, the person with the bowl-cut gives off the sense of being more experienced in battle, but after hearing you speak I’ve seen I was wrong in that assumption. My name is Isuel, it’s good to meet you.”

Finn looked at Rey for direction, an eyebrow raised from the curious nature of Isuel’s words. Rey was equally out of sorts, having come across this svelte man who was now making threats, and who implied he had spoken directly with Ren. But there wasn’t time to waste figuring things out the old fashioned way, so she closed her eyes. After a brief interval she opened them again, and tightened her fingers around her lightsaber.

“Kill him,” she said, “he’s no janitor, and that sword is not a decorative item.”

“Another Knight of Ren?” Sonic asked with concern.

“I would assume.”

The corners of Isuel’s mouth turned down subtly in mild disappointment. “This could’ve gone a lot faster for everyone. But whatever, don’t listen to me.” He took out his sword, curved like a saber (a real saber, not just called one like certain other weapons). Isuel ran his hand over the edge and plasma hissed to life where his fingers had gone over.

Tyr had frankly been waiting for the opportunity and immediately took a shot at Isuel. He swiped the beam away with his sword; the fight was on.

“Spread out!” shouted Nish, “he can’t deflect our attacks from all angles!”

Sonic broke into a sprint as he tried to get behind Isuel’s back. His body would have seemed blurred to regular eyes, but Isuel’s reactions were well honed, and Sonic found himself stumbling to a stop as he dodged the blade of plasma sailing towards his body. A line of blood trickled down the side of Sonic’s arm as he regained his footing. The cut was shallow and, since the sword was only edged with plasma, hadn’t stayed in long enough to cauterize the skin. But Sonic wasn’t worried about minor wound, or for that matter the state of his arm; what troubled him most was how the blade had moved.

Sonic had been far away from Isuel when he had gotten cut (he was trying to flank him after all), yet the sword had gotten in front of him regardless, and he was fairly sure there was no hand attached to it when it did. He heard two blaster shots, and when he looked to see if they had hit their mark, saw clearly what had given Isuel’s sword such range. The refined weapon danced forth away from his body, Isuel guiding it with his hand through the influence of the Force as if it were attached by a string, following a clear parabola mirroring that which was made by the edge of his fingers. The blaster shots were swiped away with a brush of his hand and a swipe of his sword—dissipating like morning fog.

“See,” Rey grumbled, “not just for show.” She flexed the muscles in her legs and went forward to meet Isuel. However Isuel’s flying saber proved a tough defense, and Rey was buffeted by it, unable to close distance farther while parrying the oncoming attacks with her own weapon. Finn and Tyr kept up pressure with their blasters, accomplishing little more than ripping apart the mess hall’s tables as their shots ricocheted off Isuel’s sword. Nish was kind of sidestepping to try and find a position where her daggers could even be useful at that range; with how well the laser projectiles were being dealt with, throwing was probably not an option. Sonic, too, tried to help remove the threat, but was kept at bay from getting behind Isuel everytime he made an attempt, forced to frantically duck under the hissing weapon as it targeted him.

“This isn’t going to go well for you,” Isuel spoke between the wild gestures that directed his sword. “I don’t want to spend my time like this, either. You should know, my compromise is still available.” The sword continued to flitter above the ground, Isuel pulling it wherever it was needed. It was pleasant to look at, actually, or so thought a couple of those Rebels. Even though it posed a great risk to their health, the movements were fluid and graceful. A bird on a single wing, the blade flew and dove with fatal beauty, sharp as a falcon’s claw. Sonic wondered if Isuel had ever considered ribbon dancing, it would have suited him well.

“Still no?” asked Isuel. Only the grunts of battle came back to his ears. He sighed. “Stubborn like all other sentient creature. It’s quite a feat that any of us are able to collaborate at all with massive egos as prevalent as they are. Fine then, I’ll put you to rest myself.” Isuel’s fast moving strikes, already impressive enough by themselves, started to move with even greater switness, and then they were branching out to extend beyond mere protection. For most people it would be too much to just defend themselves from so many attacks, but as Isuel went on the offensive, it seemed he had just been holding back.

Finn cried out as the sword sliced in half the blaster he was holding, then scraped across his chest as it continued its arc.

“There,” Iseul said, watching the once-stormtrooper collapse to his attack, “now it’ll be a little quieter.”

Rey made a noise in her throat like a growl and pressed even harder to break Isuel’s defense. She parried strike after strike but gained only feet as the graceful Knight of Ren was somehow able to keep pace. Nish, not seeing any practical means she could help Rey in her assault, instead scurried over to Finn, who had fallen to his feet. His skin was pale and clammy, blood wetted his shirt and dripped onto the ground. With the sizzling noises of the two plasma weapons colliding in the background, Nish tore open Finn’s shirt to inspect his wound. Like the wound that had been inflicted on Sonic’s arm, the laceration over Finn’s chest wasn’t deep nor cauterized, but it was much longer, and as result Finn was losing blood rapidly.

“Finn,” Nish said with her best bedside manners, “I know you probably can’t hear me, but I want you to know that everything’s going to be alright. By which I mean I think you’re survive this—cosmetically there will be some scarring. That’s alright though, just look at Tyr, she’s not hindered by any of her numerous scars.”

Finn blinked several times. He was just aware enough to be able to construct a coherent sentence in his mind, however he was not prepared to sink the energy required in translating that sentence into audible words. The farthest he got was opening his mouth to release a dry, crypt-like wheezing.

“Good,” Nish continued, “I’ll assume that means you can understand me. Now, you’re going to have to be even braver for me, got it? A lot of your red juice is spilling out and that is not okay, so I’m going to seal you up… with my dagger.” Finn began to wheeze slightly louder. “It will hurt, but you will not die. Another bright side: the shock will almost definitely make you fall unconscious, so we won’t need any anesthetics.”

Nish was right, he did pass out, in fact, he passed out as soon as she held out the blue blade over his leaking chest. Out like a light, as the expression goes. And lucky for him, because Nish was no surgeon; her medical skills reflected that. She did close the wound, stopping Finn’s blood flow and saving his life, but the scar left by her hand, so un-adroit with dealings of the body not revolving around killing, was more than the simple straight cut.

“How is Finn?” Rey asked as she blocked another strike from Isuel. The colors clashed to make give life to a brief flash of purple.

“Alive and fairly stable,” Nish answered, looking gravely at her handiwork

Rey’s heart slowed to merely her average elevated rate. At least she could fight without having to worry over Finn bleeding out on the ground. However an anger was mounting within her from seeing her friend hurt by yet another lackey of the First Order, and she had to struggle to get herself rebalanced with the the Force. Frustration, too, nipped away at her focus. How was it that one of Ren’s disciples could deter her so strongly, even when additionally faced with some of her strongest allies? She had to figure out how to get the upper hand in the battle; her training couldn’t only amount to this much.

“Sonic! Tyr!” she shouted so ferociously they almost stopped in their attacks. “Give me all you’ve got! We’ve been held up here long enough!”

It was a spurious command at best; surely both of them were already fighting for their lives. But Sonic and Tyr knew exactly what she meant: they were to work themselves into an unsustainable fury without any concern for self-preservation. It was sprint time, and Rey would be the one to make sure they didn’t fall on their faces once they passed the finish line.

“Understood!” Sonic replied eagerly.

Tyr grinned wide. Nish cheered them on while staying to watch Finn.

“This is becoming shameful,” Isuel said flatly, not even breaking enough of a sweat for his makeup to run. But his cool demeanor was fractured when he saw the flames burning around Sonic and the eyes of an apex predator shine from Tyr. An atavistic fear brushed at his mind, and Isuel unconsciously readied himself for the violence to come.

A gout of fire raced in Isuel’s direction, forcing him to roll to avoid being burned. He tried to get back in control of the situation by pulling his sword to strike Sonic, but was interrupted again when Tyr began running after him with one hand firing her blaster, the other chucking out knives from her endless fanny-pack supply. One of Tyr’s blasts scoured a ligament in Isuel’s legs, and he fell down hard on his side. Isuel gritted his teeth and started swinging his sword crazily away from his body, hoping to hit something, put the rhythm of the battle back in his favor. Sonic ducked low to avoid the sword from overhead, then sent a blazing whip at Isuel. Isuel hopped up on his one limp leg and, an incredible feat of acrobatism, threw himself aside to get out of the way. The whole time his sword spun around threateningly in the air.

Rey was ready to capitalize on the chaos; she watched the the sword in its trajectory, feeling it the whole time, visualizing the link between it and Isuel, how it was weakened by his lost focus. When the sword came the farthest from his body, Rey reached her hand out and with a sharp movement, used the power of the Force to tug it away, severing the link and sending Isuel’s blade into the wall. The Knight’s eyes widened as he felt the sword taken from his control. He look around and saw it imbedded in the wall, but it was too late; Rey had already sprinted over and was making a downward swing at his body. A searing pain coarsed in Isuel’s mind as he fell, watching, in fuzzy terror, the left side of his torso separate from the right.

His body was split, rent by Rey’s hands. “Disgusting creatures… we are”, he choked out past the blood pouring from his mouth, melodramatic to his last dying breath. Rapidly his vision faded, and Isuel came to that all-consuming silence he had always been searching for. Ah, he thought, it was so close all these years. What a fool I was to miss it. Then he passed over completely, and had no more use for thoughts.

Rey watched his body come apart, and lingered on it after it fell. She looked away before the bloody sight got too deeply ingrained in her head.

“Tyr?” she said solemnly. “Can you take Finn with us?”

Tyr looked up with a start, her hand snugly around Isuel’s inert sword, having moved over the first chance she got.“Yeah, he’s not very heavy.”

“Thank you,” Rey said before spinning around. The grim shape she had just made toyed at her, but the sight of Sonic’s still immolating figure took her back to the present. “Aw shoot,” she exclaimed and went over to help Sonic.

“It’s still going for some reason!” Sonic cried out. He had started burning almost instinctively when Rey had given her order to them, like a ignition was flipped in him. Now that the target was dead, though, he couldn’t get it to stop. The tangerine-colored flames fanned out around his body, lapping at the air with their innate hunger, groping for more fuel.

Rey nearly gripped Sonic, but pulled away as soon as she felt the draft of heat. “Okay, okay, try deep breathing,” she instructed him. “Um… Nish, do have any advice?”

“There’s some guava juice over here,” she responded, now behind a nearby counter, “maybe we can pour that on him?”

“Now is not the time to be rooting around for food!” Rey said emphatically. “Sonic”, she went to shake him, forgetting the danger, but again stopped before getting charred, “is the breathing helping?”

Sonic took in some of the stagnant spaceship air—the flames curled around his lips as he did so. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I just passed out last time, so I’m not sure how to stop it without that happening.”

“I could punch him really hard,” Tyr offered.

“We’re not going to resort to that,” Rey chastised. “Yet.” Tyr winked at her as if to say, I’ll keep the ol’ forearm cocked.

Sonic could still feel the energy under his skin and working in his nerves. He called up calm images from his time on his Earth—no one in them, only the sky or water, a telephone line with birds on it; simple images that would evoke no other emotions but calm. It seemed to work because the fire became tamer and smaller as he did so.

“There!” Rey said. “Whatever you’re doing, keep doing it.”

Sonic continued breathing and sorting the more serene memories of his past life, even incorporating some from their oh-so-recent stop on Anaclee. The vigor granted by the flames was replaced with an extreme lassitude, as if he had just gone through a severe drop in blood pressure. Within a few more seconds he was back to his normal, non-combusting self, though less inclined to do anything especially physically exerting.

“Do you feel healthy enough to keep moving?” Rey said softly.

“Yeah,” he replied, “just tired from burning that much stamina, and I guess I’m in good company with that.” Indeed Sonic was not alone in his fatigue, the blitz of a raid had extracted a great deal of physical energy from the Rebels. With all the combined jogging and killing, not to mention the marathon of battle against Isuel, the state of the party was far from where it was when they had first boarded. They had one fully unconscious person among them; two halfway lucid individuals in Sonic and Nish; as well one jedi not too bad off physically, but who, after having used so much of the Force in such a short period of time, was at present swimming in her own thoughts.

Tyr, in contrast, still had every intention of doing her daily reps later.

“Good,” Rey replied with humor to Sonic’s attestment to his health. “I don’t think Tyr would be willing to carry another knocked-out person.” Tyr kept to herself the fact that Rey’s assertion was incorrect.

“Can we wrap this up, now?” Nish interjected, “I’m getting woozy, and would really appreciate it if we got to the ship before I have to take my nap here on the floor.”

“I hear you,” Rey said. She stretched her back, arms at her sides for balance. “One last visit and we’re done.”

The service elevator was a dingy little box in the back of the kitchen, and once Tyr had been persuaded to put some of the wrapped snacks in her fanny pack, they rode it up to the final, uppermost level of the mighty Star Destroyer.

With Isuel now dead, along with the fact that the living, sensible Stormtroopers had already taken the closest escape pod out of that meat grinder, the Rebels met very little resistance on their way out onto that last floor. There were no guards to speak of, and no turret or traps waiting outside the door to service stairwell. Getting into the command deck itself, however, posed somewhat of a problem. As aligning with their nature, the officers had shrewdly shut the command deck’s main entrance as a contingency should Isuel be proved outclassed by the invading host—which, as we know, he was.

Rey regarded without concern the tightly shut metal that separated them from the only remaining task on their agenda.

“Step back,” she told them, and they did so. Tyr rested Finn’s immobile form up against the wall a safe distance away. The door was sturdy; it had to be, it was the last defense granted to those piloting the entire ship, but it was also on an older model craft, and since numetal was a very recent discovery, it melted unceremoniously when Rey stuck her lightsaber into it. There was a wretched, high pitched garbling from the molten metal, and Rey cut a swathe through the blast doors, leaving the combat-inept officers of the First Order fully exposed.

Their screaming did not last long.

The Rebels were tired, and comparatively to the foe they had just bested, the officers were dead fish in a sardine can—no gun needed. Sonic and the others may have had scruples with harming the defenseless, but First Order fascists were still fascists, and not more than five minutes ago they had seen a man chopped vertically in half, so the unspoken consensus was for to defer to the mindset that you can only get so wet—somewhat literally in that case.

Rey wiped a spot of crimson off her face and held her lightsaber up to one of the more important looking control panels.

“Wait!” Nish said forcefully.

Rey paused.

“Why should we destroy this place?” Nish continued. “We could take it for ourselves. I for one would be very much up to having two goliaths on our fleet.”

“That’s not a horrible point,” contributed Sonic.

“Right?” exclaimed Nish. “Not only will we have taken away firepower from the First Order, we would add considerably to our own.”

Rey’s mouth was a flat line. “Do you really think we could manage one of these things with the amount of staff we have?”

“Um…” Nish demurred, “probably not, but we could try.”

“Only two of us here are pilots,” Rey said.

“Yes,” Nish said and then held up her finger, “but the Beyblade has quite a few skilled pilots on it, does it not?”

“We would never be able to hold it. The First order would take it back the first chance they got; too risky.”

“This mission itself was risky, you admitted that,” Sonic jumped in. He was also enticed by the proposition of keeping the oversized weapon of war.

Rey deactivated her lightsaber with a little shwoop, stepping away from the control panel. “Tyr, what do you think?”

“Not very stealthy, nor in the spirit of a guerilla group.”

“Thank you,” Rey said, and was earnestly grateful for Tyr siding with her.

“I agree that something like this isn’t stealthy in the traditional sense. I mean, they did ambush us, but I understand for purposes of keeping our location as secret as possible it would be counterintuitive. But I ask you: do we really need to be stealthy any longer? I don’t believe there’s another squad of First Order Knights waiting in the woodworks somewhere; at worst I’d guess there’s three remaining. And with a Star Destroyer behind us we could afford to be pugnacious.”

Rey tapped a foot anxiously. “It’s not in General Ortega’s plan.”

“Well we could consult with Mrisada,” Sonic said encouragely. “They have enough authority on these matters if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“Fine,”Rey capitulated in a quiet tone. “First we go back”, she said more forcefully, “I don’t want to take any action until we have communicated this idea to the others.”

Nish put her hands up deferentially. “Of course. It’s almost my naptime, anyway. And I intend for this nap to be a long one.”

The Rebels having come to a temporary decision on that matter, Sonic elected to stay and keep watch while everyone else went to speak with the Admiral. The four of them then left to go take the remaining escape pods—and because not a great number of stormtroopers got a chance to escape, they found an abundance . A couple of breaks were taken along the way, but they did take off, directing their little crafts to the now-stalled Beyblade.

Sonic left the command deck once they were gone. It was probably the best place to be should anything happen, but it was also in a sorry state. The floors would need an industrial cleaning before they could use it, he mused to himself. Then Sonic got a little mopey because he usually wasn’t one for gallows humor, so he went down to the officer’s mess hall and kept his eyes from wandering as he picked food out from the kitchen to eat in a hall that wasn’t dripping or leaking anything. Sonic ate a nicely toasted raspberry scone, and vaguely wondered if they had killed the chef at some point. His hungry stomach happily took in the sustenance, and shortly thereafter he wolfed down enough food to make up for the extreme amount of calories used up when fighting Isuel. Sonic wanted very strongly to nap himself, but that would be irresponsible given his role, so instead he deigned to walk around the parts of the Star Destroyer they hadn’t already gone through.

Eventually Sonic went back up to the upper level and sat meditatively outside the main command deck. He thought about how the entire ship could now be theirs, a ship designed to threaten whole colonies—small nations even. This might be the boon the Rebellion was looking for, he thought. And a satisfying spit in the face of their true enemies. Speaking of faces, Sonic wished he could see the face of whoever that Supreme Leader was when he heard the news an entire Star Destroyer was lost. That’d be a laugh.


	14. Cleanse Yourself of the Evil Spirits That's In YOu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We catch up with Kylo Ren and Huxley as they mull over recent news. The Rebels further discuss their next mission. And Sonic faces one of his demons.

Kylo Ren was in poor spirits. When he had murdered his former master, even to a certain extent when he had killed his father, he had done so with the assumption that his plan was going to go much smoother than it currently was. Maybe ‘plan’ might not be the right word, but all of Ren’s actions had been motivated by a desire to actualize some vision at least, a vision in which he had absolute control over himself and also, possibly, a good chunk of the known galaxies. At the beginning he hadn’t done so poorly. After all, he had inherited the title ‘Supreme Leader’; not too shoddy a start. Now, however, he felt about all he had control over was which breakfast Huxley would bring him.

Today’s happened to be eggs.

“What am I doing wrong?” he aimlessly asked Huxley as he plunged his fork in the fluffy yellow clouds of protein.

Huxley took a bite of his own breakfast, a hefty burrito of his signature variety that was well known within the ranks to cause serious gastrointestinal problems. “Currently, Kylo, I think you’re doing the best you can.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ren replied before shoveling a spoonful of eggs into his mouth.

“It’s supposed to mean that, in my mind, the cause of our current preturberance originates not in any administrational or strategic flaw, but in the fact you allowed that Rey woman to get away, or worse, that you let her live.”

Kylo digested that thought along with the spoonful of eggs. “Not my shining moment, no, but you know as well as anyone that it’s more complicated than ‘I let her go’.”

“I know full well. You asked, I simply answered. I’m not saying it was ever going to go a different way. Well, the killing her part maybe, but even that would’ve been asking for a lot.”

“Yes, it would have. It still is.” Kylo put his fork down and moved his hands from the table and onto his knees. “Huxley, we were connected, and not in some wishy-washy poetical sense, we were connected literally. Rey and I, I mean.”

Huxley took a second to finish chewing the bite of food he was working on, and swallowed with a resounding squishing noise. “That was the work of Snoke, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” Kylo scoffed, “and despite that I’m still right and you’re still wrong. Snoke was never that powerful. It takes serious raw talent or years of training to even work rudimentary telepathy; that’s light years easier than putting together two separate minds residing in different corners of the galaxy. Snoke’s telepathy wasn’t good enough to know I was going to stab him. And we were in the same room!” Kylo’s tone was becoming more hostile as he went on, but he quickly deflated when he saw the discomfort on Huxley’s face. He was always getting too worked up; side effect of the dark side. What can you do except be aware of it? “All I’m saying is that there was more to it than Snoke let on, I’m sure of it.”

Huxley let Kylo’s blood cool down before offering his reply. “So? It doesn’t matter anymore what kind of connection you felt the two of you shared; I’m sure she hates you now.” Huxley saw Kylo tighten his jaw and added, “No offence. I merely don’t want you to get your hopes up. Let’s face it, she blew off, not you. You offered her a chance to join you, and she rejected it. That is on her bad judgement, and her bad judgement alone.”

“And now we’re down to a single one of my knights remaining, and worse, out an entire Star Destroyer. Hux, The First Order won’t last if this keeps up.”

Huxley bit his lip, trying to come to a conclusion on whether now was the time to voice something that had been nagging him recently. “Kylo, I’ve been thinking about this issue and I’ve come upon a conclusion that you may not like.”

“Like it or not, we are in desperate need of new ideas; so go on.”

“The thing is, the only members of the Rebellion who can pose a real threat are Rey and those few she keeps around her; the pilot, the deserter, and whatnot. The Rebellion only survived Krait because of these few. The problem is, I believe—and excuse me for saying so—is that you’ve relegated dealing with these few to your underlings when it’s something you should have put a stop to yourself months ago.” Huxley braced to be Force choked or swiftly punched in the stomach. The two had a decent repertoire, but he knew his last comment might have been too sensitive a topic for even him to touch on. Nothing happened, though. Kylo was silent, his face turned to the table.

“Kylo?” Huxley said with caution.

“I already lost to her once,” came Kylo’s voice, barely a whisper. “She keeps beating me. My most promising pupils have been killed or gotten the will kicked out of them. And now I’m facing down the barrel of the entire organization being brought to its knees by Rey. You know me well, Huxley, to an extent that can feel uncomfortable sometimes, so I’m alright telling you this, but all my posturing toward Ji-Yu—or any of the Knights—was so vitriolic because I feel like I’m talking to myself, chastising my own failures. If I face Rey myself, I’m not sure I can win.”

“Are you done?” Huxley bit in blithely. Kylo was too struck to respond. “This is what’s wrong with you dark side users”, Huxley went on, “you make mountains out of anthills. Kylo, if you want to kill her, you can. She’s not stronger than you… not yet. If you wait any more she might be. And pull your head out from under the pillow, we still have suitable armaments to handle the Rebellion, all you need to do is have all that’s under you power work together. Now is not the time for the lone wolf approach. Plus, we still have Ji-Yu out there. She’s fairly competent when spurred on by an enemy’s insult.”

“Huxley, you may be one of the weakest and most cowardly people I’ve met in my life, but you do come up with good plans.”

Huxley took another chunk out of his burrito. His stomach grumbled angrily as the food found its way into his stomach. “Of course. We all have to have our strengths.”

Rey and the others came back on the Falcon after Sonic had been babysitting the Star Destroyer for around an hour. They found him sitting in a thin metal chair he had gotten from the mess hall below. He was meticulously picking out the crumbs that had gotten lodged deeply in the fur covering his stomach and lap. Rey came in followed closely by the chief intelligence officer, Orin, and a handful of his staff. Mrisada flew in last.

“Half expected you to be asleep,” Rey quipped when she saw Sonic.

“I take my responsibilities very seriously,” Sonic replied, getting up from his chair. “Have you come to a consensus?”

“It’s all been decided on,” the chief intelligence officer jumped in. “We’re transferring half of the people on my team to pilot this Star Destroyer, with the Amiral taking over the position of its head officer. You all”, he motioned to Sonic, “are going to stay on the Beyblade with me and the other half of my team.”

“We thought it would be best to split our forces somewhat,” Mrisada said. “I’ll bring the Star Destroyer back to home base, and from there see how we can put it to its best use for the Rebellion. In addition, I’m going to need to be taking Chewie away from you to be the Destroyer’s main pilot. If it’s any consolation, he has expressed to me a desire for getting back and seeing Leia again.”

Sonic hadn’t got to know Chewie particularly well since joining the Rebellion—mostly because he was unable to speak wookie—but as a fellow kin of the fur, Sonic was sad to hear that the wookie was going to be gone. “What about us?” Sonic asked, his gaze shifting between Mrisada to Rey. “Do we have a new assignment?”

“We do,” Rey said cheerily. “A very important one. It’s been decided that the time has come for the Rebellion to reach out diplomatically to fellow enemies of the First Order.”

Sonic was puzzled. “There’s more than just us?”

“There are now,” Rey continued. “Nations who have had time to heal while the First Order was occupied handling us, merchant groups who’d rather take taxes than state ownership, colonies in danger of having their children stolen and made into stormtroopers; they could all help us. For this assignment we are being sent to the planet of Fyur as the emissaries of the Rebellion. Exciting, huh?”

“The Fyurian government asked to meet with Rey specifically, so it makes the most sense to split the group this way,” Orin said. “And not to be the bearer of bad news, but because of how sensitive this diplomatic mission is, I’ve been asked to follow you around to make sure you don’t say anything potentially insulting to the nobles.”

“You don’t think we’ll do well on our own?” Sonic joked.

“I can tell you that I’m not confident in our decorum,” Rey said.

“I’ll try not to step on your toes,” Orin said. “Anyway, I’ll stay here for the moment to help Mrisada get his team set up. You two can go back whenever you want.” He nodded once to each of them and started walking into the command deck with his handful of staff. “Oh. Sonic, did you happen to see where the janitor’s closet is?” he asked turning around after a few steps. Sonic told him that he didn’t and Orin went back out with faint frown on his face. Sonic imagined he had seen the state of the command deck and was already trying to find the nearest mop. Mrisada told them that it had been an honor to work with them, that they hoped to see the two again soon (ideally with a better body for themself), and then they too glided out of the room.

Rey thanked Sonic for babysitting the ship, and then as they were going down the stairs to the mess hall, thoroughly grilled him on what kinds of food he had found while she was away. Sonic gave her a rundown. Once they were in the mess hall proper, he went one step further, guiding Rey to the locations of the various treats he had enjoyed. They once again passed Iseul’s bifurcated corpse on their way out. Sonic stopped to close the Knight’s eyes, which had become glassy in the hours after his death. It may have been a moot point considering that they were one who killed him, but Sonic felt some degree of respect was owed to the dead now that it was all over. At the very least, it made whatever shreds of guilt he had for participating in the killing disappear. The stormtroopers that they saw on their way further down the layers of the Destroyer already had their head covered, so Sonic figured it would be okay to leave them as is.

Rey and Sonic slipped onto the Falcon and flew to the vessel which suddenly had a contender for the title of ‘flagship’. With half of the intelligence officers gone, the lower level was quieter than normal. The two of them spoke only a little on the elevator trip back to their deck, the metal box was instead filled with munching noises from Rey as she failed to resist breaking into their snack haul; it was fairly large, so it would last them a good deal of time regardless. Mangat and Terho greeted them as they passed through the central lounge area, but understood their exhaustion after the fight and didn’t ask for any details yet—that could wait for another day. Tyr was off doing her pullups, and you can guess where Nish was.

Sonic didn’t notice how truly tired he was until he had slunked off into his room and collapsed onto the bed. His body indented itself into the mattress; he was beat. Pressing his face against the extra-firm pillow, Sonic thought about how the Star Destroyer would be going into lightspeed, how it was going to travel to the rainy planet where it would take up a more fitting crew size, re-become the threatening warship it was meant to be. Things were moving so quickly now—just as they had during Sonic’s youth, when he still enjoyed that kind of pace.

After all their hard work, it was starting to look like the Rebels were going to realize their dream of unseating the once-on-the-rise tyrannical power of the First Order. And Sonic had helped them get there. He bet that Rey didn’t regret bringing in himself and the other mercenaries. They had just left Anaclee, but with things as they were, the possibility of their team returning to the planet soon seemed ever greater. If they were able to defeat Kylo, Sonic would spend a lush few weeks or months hanging with his fellow Rebels, exploring forests and touring every natural wonder Anaclee offered, then be back searching for the Chocolate Starfish again. After that, he would be done with all this for good. Done with all the dimension hopping, all the making new allies and killing new enemies. He could just be himself and do what he liked.

Sonic rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Sleep was creeping into his limbs, up to his brain. The fire thing was worrisome, though. It didn’t stop on its own on the destroyer—it didn’t want to. Sonic had to extinguish it himself with the cool water of old memories.

That was unlikely to work forever.

He sighed into the darkness of the room. The wise Guy was right when had warned Sonic; fire was hungry and must be used with caution. It was a helpful power, just not a friendly one. If only Guy could be there with him. He would say all the right things to lead Sonic down the sage’s path. Oh well, Sonic had a different guru figure in Rey. She was new to it, but gave good advice. Even Tyr might be able to lend him a trick or two. After all, she kept her bloodlust in check all day without any problems. The answer to his fiery problem was out there somewhere, just waiting to be found. He didn’t have to spend all of his time worked up about it. So Sonic stopped turning over the issue and instead relinquished himself to a deep, soundless sleep.

The hedgehog woke up hours later when his body told him it had gotten enough rest, and not a minute earlier. So he dozed right past breakfast, snored through a regularly timed lunch, and inched his eyes open but thirty minutes before Nish did. Sonic considered that last bit a minor accomplishment. After getting a good stretch in, Sonic walked out to the kitchen so he could bust into the recently deposited snack stash. He could tell that the ship was going at lightspeed by the faint, pitched hum that ran along the metal of the ship.

Terho and Mangat were already milling about in the kitchen when Sonic got there. On the table lay two plates—empty except for a little bit of crumbs and some sauce residue that was starting to dry on the platters. It looked like they had finished their lunches and had been talking for some time. Sonic greeted the two of them and then got a pre-wrapped vegetable-and-cream-cheese sandwich out of the refrigerator. He caught a glance of the strange blue milk in the fridge—the same milk that Nish had purchased on Anaclee—and to be adventurous poured himself a glass of that as well. It tasted a little tangy. There were even hints of what Sonic could only liken to a rare tropical fruit, the kind that goes millennia untouched and untasted by a single living soul. The flavor stuck to his palate and coated his throat. Sonic found he actually enjoyed it quite a bit.

“Can you believe it?” Mangat asked as Sonic took a seat by the counter.

“Believe what?”

Mangat leaned his body coyly into Sonic’s. “Oh you know already! We’re going to be diplomats!”

Sonic took a bite of the sandwich—the bread had gotten slightly harder, but is wasn’t stale yet. He chuckled after he finished chewing. “I’m not sure that’s exactly right. Think we’re just going on a diplomatic mission as the security detail. From what I understand, Rey’s going to be doing the actual negotiating.”

Mangat clicked his tongue. “Semantics. We’re going on a diplomatic mission, so I say we’re diplomats.

“I don’t care what they call us,” Terho jumped, “as long as we’re visiting the nobles, then I consider myself lucky.”

“Exactly,” Mangat said, “there will be amenities there like we’ve never seen. And if we stay on good terms with the Fyurians, I imagine the security work will be minimal at worst. It’s not like they don’t have their own guards.”

“Well you tell us, Terho,” teased Sonic. “You have the most experience with this sort of thing. Are we going to be sitting in the lap of luxury, or are they going to keep us in the servants quarters?”

“Experience?” Terho laughed. “None of the clients I did security for were nobles of any kind. Or if they were, they were too corrupt to keep a good reputation. And when we did security it wasn’t for show; someone was getting shot at some point, what differed was which side. No, I’m anticipating this as eagerly as anyone else. I mean, this is practically my dream: travelling around to new worlds and without the expectation of killing anyone. I should have been looking to go into politics all along.”

“And we may have an opportunity to do so,” Mangat said seriously. “There are going to be a lot of potential contacts out there, just roaming about the capital.”

Sonic worked on a blob of cream cheese in his mouth. His own experiences with nobles had been less than pleasant. On one of his dimensions jumps he had landed up in the court of a local duke and his manifestation in the room had subsequently spurred on a full scale war between political factions over whether Sonic was an emissary of the gods or the elder beings. It was an ugly thing to be in the middle of; the peasants got it the worst despite having any real stake in the debate. And besides, few of the nobles cared either way. They just wanted to use Sonic as a justification to turn the people on their enemies. He wondered what motivations the nobles of Fyur were hiding in calling the Rebels to a meeting.

“We don’t even know a thing about these people,” he said. “It’s pointless to go speculating on how they’re going to treat us.”

“They’re well vetted,” Rey said as she walked into the kitchen. “The general made sure of that.”

“There she is,” Mangat exclaimed upon seeing Rey, “the ambassador of the Rebellion. Not a bad promotion, huh?”

Rey chuckled and sidled up to the counter’s open chair. “They are good people, though”, Rey emphasized. “The Fyurians, that is.”

Sonic shrugged. “Sorry, I was only going off what information I had at the moment. Can’t blame me for erring on the side of caution.”

“That’s usually a smart side to err on ,sure. But I have new information, so I thought I’d share it with you.” Rey saw the glass of blue milk and frowned. “Is that stuff alright to drink?”

“The milk?” Sonic puzzled. “Yes, surprisingly. I was skeptical at first but it has a nice fruity flavor.”

Rey’s frown deepened. “Why would milk have fruity flavor? That doesn’t seem right. I’ve never liked the appearance of that stuff. And if you’ve seen where you come from you might have a second thought about chugging it down.”

Sonic was about to take another sip, but stopped just as the glass was about to touch his lips. “Wait…where does it come from?”

Terho shook his head. “You don’t want to know—and you don’t need to know. It’s edible and it’s tasty, that’s all that matters.”

Sonic stared into the depths of the glass. “You can’t just say that. Now I’m not sure that I want to finish drinking it.”

“Maybe that’s for the best,” Terho said solemnly.

Sonic looked askance at the milk and hesitantly pushed the glass away from him. “Getting off of that,” Terho continued, his voice brightening, “I am very interested to hear about this ‘new information’ that you’ve got, Rey.”

She got up, went to the refrigerator, and took out her own vegetable sandwich, having seen the one on Sonic’s plate. “You’re going to like this,” she said, smiling conspiratorially. “I talked to General Organa a little bit ago and she told me a few interesting details about the government of Fyur. Firstly, to get some of the boring things out of the way, they are a rising country that was recently reunified after a period of internal conflict. The government recently got a new leader that’s said to be doing wonders for their economy, and is even rumored may possess formidable martial skills.” Rey returned to her seat with the sandwich. “The seat of their power lies in the outskirts of the Krisch galaxy, far from the fighting, and mainly on the planet of Fyur itself, though they are establishing new colonies at a decent rate. The parts that you three will find the most salient, however, is that their government has become considerably affluent as a result of their merchant economy, and better yet, that the capital of Fyur—where we’ll be staying—is known widely for its sandy beaches and cool island breezes.”

“Oceanside vacation?” Mangat said ecstatically. “Who knew it pays so well be a guerilla fighter?”

Fidel Castro did, Sonic thought.

“Well, it’s not a vacation,” Rey insisted, accentuating her point by flapping her sandwich around lightly. “But our accommodations are sure to be good. We’ll be getting a further brief on the specifics of the inner workings of Fyurian etiquette and politics in the coming days. I expect all of you to read that brief very closely and to obey Orin’s instructions when he gives them. We’re to be on our best behavior if we want to enjoy these luxuries.”

“You won’t have any trouble from me,” Terho assured Rey.

“Nor me,” said Sonic.

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Mangat assented.

Rey finished off her food. “In that case, everything will go smoothly. Or at least it should. We have a lot to offer the Fyurians, and a great deal to gain from them in turn. More than just a further break from the fighting, this could be the beginning of the end for the First Order.”

“Cheers to that,” Terho said, followed by firm agreement from the rest of those at the table.

The end of the First Order, Sonic thought. This time I’ll really be doing something good. How’s that for a positive change.

The four of them sat together and talked for awhile longer after Rey finished her food, then gradually each person broke off to do their own business. Rey said she was going to a meditation session with Porg; Terho claimed he was going to do some repairs, though it was implicitly implied that the real purpose of that exercise would be to visit Rose while she was working; Mangat was off to stitch Finn’s wound up properly.

“Nish did some nasty fixing on him,” he said, allowing himself a hearty laugh as Finn was mostly recovered now, and because it would be the first real scar the former stormtrooper would sport (for mercenaries, getting your first scar is a rite of passage of a sort). “Looks more like a animal attack than a slice from a sword. Guess you don’t have to know much about first aid if you can patch yourself up in your sleep.”

Sonic went back to his room and read for a couple of hours, taken in by the story as the protagonist came back from a successful strike on a government armored-carrier, only to suffer a panic attack during the celebratory party later. Sonic put the book down at the end-of-chapter cliffhanger where the protagonist’s ex-wife started walking over to the punch where he was hiding out with her new, super hot boyfriend in tow. It was a tense development, but Sonic wanted to save the rest of the story for later, take it in sips like a fine tequila. Plus rey hadn’t reached that far in the book yet, and he enjoyed it when they got to share their unfiltered experiences about the story together.

So Sonic came up with another idea for something productive to do, something that could later have practical applications, but also had the potential to do some serious damage to his room if things went wrong. And this idea was that it was about time he did some earnest experimenting with his recently rediscovered power. In effect, Sonic decided he wanted to play with fire.

In order to minimize the chances of this experiment going down in retrospect as ‘a very dumb thing to do,’ Sonic moved as far away as possible from any flammable material, pushing his back up against a corner made of two heavy, steel walls. He held a hand out with the palm turned upwards, closed his eyes, and imagined a fire there. Instead of willing it forward, the fire just came… eagerly. It flashed out of his palm with the excited freeness of a small dog let loose in a pen of chickens, rising up nearly to the ceiling. In his palm it danced wildly, without care of consequence. Sonic had to reel it back in with his mind so that the flame wouldn’t scorch the the ship’s hull. He practiced the deep breathing that Rey had told him about, as he did so visualizing turning a knob down on a stovetop. The flame responded reluctantly to his efforts, but nevertheless decreased in increments of inches until it was as large as a closed fist.

Sonic was proud that he had been able to get the fire to accommodate his wishes, but at the same time felt as if he were only being used a conduit through which this power could let itself loose blindly on the physical world. And that scared him. Sonic pulled it back even more, shrinking the fire to the size of a lit match. Ever so slightly, it was resisting him. His body thrilled with the burning energy, urging him to allow out more, flare brighter and fly away on solar wings. If only you give yourself away, it was saying, all the universe will open up before us. Embrace me, that which Prometheus still suffers for gifting you. If there is a foe to oppose us, use me to burn them to ashes. Burn all that opposes you to ashes, leave no threat uncharred.

Sonic could not tell if it was his own thoughts, warped by the power, or the fire speaking through him. Either way, he kept his vigilance. He trembled with the fire dancing in his palm, sweat rolling down, matting his fur. And as he held the flame it began to temper, turning from a golden rimmed red-orange to a deep sapphire. Slowly the fire took on blue the same color as his fur. The strength and exhilaration went dormant again.

Some other time, it whispered to him. You’ll offer yourself to me eventually.

The new flame in front of Sonic was weaker, less bright and colder, but it was also a calm fire. Sonic willed it to go out and it did. He collapsed against the floor. Nothing had been burned, the room was as it was before. Sonic looked at the ceiling.

“Blue fire, huh,” he said to the empty room. “Seems like progress to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I wonder what surprises Fyur will hold for our heroes... Also, I am realized while editing that I really like playing with the idea of Huxley being a sort of Alfred figure for Kylo. I know it doesn't really fit with their canonical characterizations, but it just kinda feels right, doesn't it? New chapter will be out on the usual schedule, and with feature a more detailed introduction to this mysterious potential alliance with Fyur.


	15. Can You Feel the Sunshine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Rebels have arrived on Fyur and it's getting kinda... weird. Who are these uppity nobles? And what do they really want? Probably to accomplish their stated goal, cause they're actually fairly nice as well. But who knows? Read to find out!

Two weeks passed in transit to Fyur. It was an isolated planet, a fact that benefited the people as much as it hurt them, simultaneously providing the security needed to operate outside the usual reach of the First Order, as well as limiting the trade operations of perishable goods.

Those fourteen days cooped up in the ship felt fairly long to Sonic, but they had already stocked well up on food, and the extra time also gave the group an opportunity to practice with Orin all the proper etiquette for their roles as ambassadors of the Rebellion. They practiced proper utensil work, the correct way to greet your host, and were instructed on which topics to avoid bringing up. Rey had the brunt of the work to do, given that she would be doing the actual negotiating. It was a difficult task for her, too, as she had grown up in an environment about as far removed from “proper society” as possible. Beyond that, the rest of the ambassador group was told essentially to, as Orin said, “be as furniture.” They were to speak when appropriate or when spoken to, but that was it. For Mangat, the one among them with the strongest ego, it took a bit to convince him to shrink his presence. The issue was settled when Orin told him they would have all of the day when non-formal events were happening to do whatever they wished in the capital. Well… anything so long as it reflected decently on the Rebellion. Luckily, the Fyurians were generally understood to be fairly austere, so they didn’t have to learn any ball dances or ceremonial voguing like those practiced by other noble families.

When not preparing for their diplomatic mission, Sonic used the down time to further experiment with his fire. He produced balls of fire and wrapped strands of it around his body, each time approaching the power with a detached discipline, keeping it in the blue. It was still fun to know that he had better control; Sonic even thought if that worked at it longer he might not need to use the blaster Tyr had loaned him during battles. When he was confident enough in his ability, he went and talked to Rey about the new development. She looked seriously relieved to know she wouldn’t have to worry about Sonic spontaneously combusting in the near future.

Days went by on the Beyblade with little external indication, just the same metal walls and background hum of the subspace field around them. The crew was getting anxious near the end of the second week, even the remaining intelligence officers would come up to socialize from time to time, or just to have slightly different scenery. When the ship finally dropped out of lightspeed in the Fyurian system, though, all unease was washed away as if by an ocean’s wave—something they’d actually be able to observe soon.

One of the first things that the crew of the Beyblade noticed as they stepped out and onto the planet of Fyur was that they were in an real port, which was a new experience for most of that crew. Other ships were taking off and setting down as people bustled around them with cargo. The sun shone brightly on the concrete lot where huge space vessels rested. Sprawling buildings poked up in the distance. A warm wind blew over the of heads of the Rebels.

“This is it,” Terho said softly, “this is what a real city looks like.”

Nish breathed in the balmy air. “Oh yeah, the etiquette practice was worth it; worth it all the way.”

“Proper civilization,” Rey said, a seraphic look on her face. “No getting muddy in the trenches her; Here we are diplomats. Hah, I can’t believe I can honestly say that.”

Sonic basked in the sunlight, and the vivacity that bubbleded in that port alone, let alone the distant city. What a difference it made ot be away from the fighting; people in the port walked with a sense of security, no one kept their arm perpetually close to their hip. A whole city was waiting for them. If this was the norm for Fyur, who knew what opulence the inside of the capital hid?

Just as Sonic was thinking this, an imposing man walked up to the cluster of Rebels standing on the concrete. He was tall, looked to be about in his thirties, and wore a fine cotton shirt with a gleaming pin on it. Two uniformed individuals walked closely behind him.

“You must be the Rebellion’s delegation,” he said, smiling amicably.

“We are,” Rey replied, still reeling from the sights of Fyur.

“Allow me to introduce myself, then,” continued the man. “My name is Gareth.” Gareth crossed an arm over his chest and bowed his head; Rey did the same, as she had been instructed by Orin to do. “I am the brother of Lady Astrea, and have come under her authority to guide you to the guest quarters.”

“I’m honored to meet you,” Rey said. “And very grateful that you took the time to come all the way to us just to show us to our rooms.”

Gareth waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense. I’m glad to get out of the estate, especially to meet with esteemed persons such as yourself, Lady Rey.”

Rey giggled bashfully. “Just ‘Rey’ is fine, really.”

“If you insist. But you are our top priority at the moment, so it is the least I could do to come here for your arrival.” Gareth looked around the are by the Rebel’s feet. “You don’t have any bags?”

“No need,” Rey said. “We live pretty lightly, and if we should need anything, the Beyblade will be right here.”

“I’m happy you say that, and not just because I would be the one to carry your luggage,” Gareth said, laughing heartily at his own joke. “I do believe frugality is a valuable characteristic, however. Many of the merchant guests that we receive here, those with status, have wild expectations of our family, expectations much more exorbitant than carrying bags, of course. But little things like that can be indicative of someone’s personality. That’s enough about that, though, a good host doesn’t bore people with their anecdotes. Come now, I’ll lead you to your rooms.” With that, Gareth dismissed the two uniformed individuals who were there to help with the bags, and went down the way he came. “This way,” he cried out behind him.

The Rebels followed suit, taking off after Gareth at the same brisk pace. Soon they left the lively port and were going down a wide gravel path fenced in on either side by large, dusty succulents that were flowering on the top. Insects buzzed around the pollen laden stamen of the vibrant plants.

“Negotiations will start tomorrow, if that suits you,” Gareth said without turning around.

Rey checked with Orin before responding. His eyes were too lost in the tropical surroundings to meet hers. “We have no problems with such an arrangement,” she said at last.

“Wonderful! I’ll finalize the itinerary after you get settled in and have it sent over before nightfall.”

Sonic was hardly even listening to their conversation as his careworn had all of its anxiousness melt away under the sun’s rays. Tyr had already wandered away from the group, and Nish was presently trying to pull her away from the bunch of butterflies she was watching resting on a flower’s petals. Nish didn’t get very far in that endeavor; her motions were as useful as an ant attempting to move a great marble statue out of the way. Gareth was aware of all this, but looked more as if he were amused by it than offended, his face peaceful and with a smile still on it.

“I’m sorry about my colleagues,” Rey said with embarrassed contrite

He shook his head to tell her it wasn’t any offense. “It is a lovely planet; even I get lured away by its sights sometimes,” he confided to Rey. “And it’s really because of you Rebels that it has remained this way. Had the First Order not been checked, they would have no doubt made their way all the way to this system—still might, if they’re not put out to rest. So, you see, we do have a vested interest in supporting your organization.”

Rey looked up at the clear blue sky. “I think I needed to hear that—emotionally, I mean. The fight has gotten personal for us at this stage, but in truth we started because we knew our efforts could help people. It is important to see we have delivered on that promise.”

Rey and Gareth were far in the front of the group. Gareth stopped on the path. “Together, Fyur and the Rebellion can do more than help people, we can save them. We will save them, save all of the victims of the First Order. From that point there will be no limits to the good we can do.” Gareth reverentially fingered the pin on his shirt; Rey, watching him, recognized it was the emblem of the Fyurian government. “My sister has… a dream, and you all are a part of it.” Gareth sucked in a lungful of the fresh air, halting like he had just revealed something he shouldn't have. “We can talk more about this tomorrow.”

They followed one of the many branches off of the main gravel path and soon came to an estate of considerable size, constructed of dark wood with a judicious use of glass in the architecture. Hardy palm trees were planted outside the house.

“Here we are,” Gareth said. “There should be enough rooms to accommodate your whole party. And the kitchen is stocked should you get hungry. If you need to contact me for any reason, there is a communication device installed in the main living room. The door has been left open for you all.” Gareth slightly bowed to Rey as he had upon first greeting her. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow.” Then Gareth set down the path in the other direction, leaving the Rebels to explore the estate. Inside, it was inhabited by sleek furniture and wide empty spaces that drank in the light from the windows. The rooms were fantastically clean.

“Dang,” Orin said, coming out from an inspection of the bathrooms. “We’ve got to step our game up. These guys even got bidets in here.” He looked quite concerned that their instruction on etiquette was lacking for a circumstance like this.

Mangat slumped down in the plush sofa and shook his head. “We’ve been fighting, killing, on the run. Yet on Fyur they’re chilling out in a tropical paradise. Geographic privilege, what a concept.”

“Yes, but hard living builds character,” Nish shot in. “Plus the Beyblade has some pretty nice rooms, thank you very much.” She picked up a cream-white oval that was resting in a glass plate by the sink and smelled it. She blinked and took a longer waft. “Then again, little luxuries like good hand soap can’t be considered harmful.”

Rose stood by the main table with her arms crossed. “Seems ostentatious to me, like they’re flaunting their wealth, maybe.”

“You think anything better than a muddy cave is ostentatious,” Terho teased. Sonic thought she might shoot him a reproachful look or give him a light smack on the shoulder… perhaps a slap if she was in a bad mood. However, Rose just exhaled and pushed him playfully. Things between the two of them were progressing more smoothly than Sonic had thought, and all the better that was.

Poe and Finn sat down in the couch opposite Mangat—Poe helping his still-recovering boyfriend onto the plush cushion. Finn was past the worst of it, and would bear no lasting effects of the other than his scar, but his stamina wasn’t back where it once was and the walk to their rooms had tired him out. “I think this will be a good place for us to get ready to finish off the First Order, build our strength up,” Finn said when his breathing had steadied. “And personally, I won’t mind wrapping up the last of my convalescence in this elegant house.”

“Oh really?” Poe said with a wry smile on his face. “You don’t really think I’m going to let you laze around here? No sir, we’re going on the gamut of sightseeing, just like on Anaclee.” Rose took up a dour appearance for a second as Poe went on to tickle Finn, but returned to normal just as swiftly. Sonic watched her with a careful eye; he hoped this was a sign her old grudge was waning. Give a person something new to take up their attention, and more often than not they’ll let bygones be bygones. It was starting to look like that was the case for Rose.

The main room had a sunroof, and just then a thin cloud passed over it, dimming the light that fell on them. Rey, who had vanished after going to inspect the rest of the estate, came in suddenly from the hallway. “This place is massive,” she said. “I haven’t seen the whole thing yet, but you could house a garrison in here with the number of beds I’ve found.”

“Are you really so surprised, Lady Rey?” Sonic said, finding himself taken in by the mirthful attitude which was coming about the party as quickly and thoroughly as a flu spreading amongst the inhabitants of a prison.

“No, we’re not doing that,” she replied seriously. “I’m going to take up any haughty practices like making you call me ‘Lady’. It’s okay that the Fyurians have their own traditions, but we in the Rebellion don’t hold with that hegemonic kind of thinking.”

“Exactly,” Rose seconded.

“Do you think I could get an honorific?” queried Tyr. “‘The Destroyer’, for instance?”

“That’s not really an honorific… and also no.”

“How about if only our enemies use it?”

Rey squinted at Tyr in confusion, but eventually nodded to humor her.

Tyr licked her lips. “One down,” she said under her breath, “now onto step two.”

“Do think we should be doing any prep for tomorrow’s negotiations?” Terho said to change the topic.

Orin, as if having been invoked by a spell, appeared in the room at the word ‘prep’. “You all should be fine, it’s unlikely the Fyurian nobles with pose any questions to you. I can say I’m confident in our position. We may not have as many property holdings as their government, but our coffers are nothing to be scoffed at, and that Star Destroyer is a whole other asset on the table for us. Credit to you, Rey, for initiating that plan.” He caught a pair of eyes with dark circles under them lock onto him, “Nish as well, of course.”

Rey made a bridge with her hands and rested her chin on it. “So what your saying is just be as frank as possible?”

“It’s realpolitik,” Nish answered for Orin. “We already have aligning morals for the most part, all that needs to be done is hash out the pragmatic matters such as future plans or the degree of military assistance.”

“...Right,” Orin said, the wind having been taken out of his sails. “And you don’t have to study that much; I’ll be there with you the whole time.” Again the dark eyes. “We will,” he added. A smile from Nish.

Rey untensed her muscles. “In that case, I’m going to take it easy for tonight.”

“By all means,” Orin said. “Negotiations are exhausting. You’ll need as much energy as you can muster.”

The rebels took the rest of the night off, exactly as planned. People went in and out of the main living room, talking quietly or taking unnecessary naps. Rey got caught up on her reading, and had a lengthy conversation with Sonic on the most recents plot points. The kitchen was indeed stocked, and food was cooked—some dishes by individuals for individuals, some by a group and for others.

The itinerary came as Gareth said it would: by personal delivery. It contained their meeting time and an extra few hours slotted for possible activities afterward should the former go well. The rooms numbered in the thirties at least, so there were no arguments over who would get which bed. On the whole, people went to sleep early, the sun not yet fully sunken in the horizon, lending a pinkish tint to the light that filtered in through the shades. The Rebels slept well that night.

Dawn arose the next morning bright and hopeful, a simmering ball of potential on the blank canvas of the sky. Gareth came and knocked on the front door about a half hour after breakfast, this time with a couple jeep-like electric vehicles with him. Each one had a driver already in the seat. Sonic noticed that they had actual wheels rather than thruster that made them hover menacingly above the ground. At first he thought that odd. But when he considered it more, he recognized that maybe wasting resources on having your heavy, metal vehicle was more odd… and also a greater potential hazard for civilians. Anyway, he was struck by the normalcy of the vehicles as their wheels crunched along the gravel path and took the party to the residence of the main noble family of Fyur.

Said residence was a thirty minute drive from the house the Rebels were staying at, and it lived up to expectations. The estate stood in the middle of an expanse of pale green grass, a modernist, single floored mansion the wet dream of any living arhitect. The backyard tapered off into a white beach that ocean waves splashed about. There were staff houses dotted on the land off from the mansion, and huge willows bursting from the soil in isolation from each other.

“Welcome to my home,” Gareth said with some acknowledgement of the humor behind that statement, seeing how the huge structure hardly counted as a “home”. “It’s pretty secluded from the rest of the capital, but that’s the way my sister likes it. Maybe she wouldn’t if she had to deal with the local representatives as frequently as I do.”

“She doesn’t get out much?” Rey asked.

“Not normally. However she does take long trips when her position calls for it . She likes to be at home amongst the family. I can’t blame her for that. I think that’s what we all wish for in our hearts: to have a family you do not desire to leave.” Gareth’s disposition took up a hint of melancholy. “Forgive me, I am getting sentimental.”

Rey looked at him with compassion. “Nothing to be forgiven. You are right, I believe, in what you say.” Gareth did not respond, he only looked out at the mansion. Neither of them said anything else until they were inside the building itself.

A butler led them through the richly carved wooden doors, and into the silent hallways. As soon as they passed the threshold, it was obvious how truly out of place the Rebels were. Alone in their guest rooms everything had seemed to be in place, but the mansion was a whole different creature, a structure of status and nobility. Even at their most composed, none of the Rebels were able to project that regal air that the surroundings demanded from them. They were as a group of juggalos working intently in the Library of Congress. But Gareth didn’t appear to notice; that can happen when you’re busy. He whispered to the butler, got a whisper back as an answer, nodded, and then told the party he was going to lead them to the conference room.

At the top of a flight of stairs, and a couple of hallways down, they came to the room where their negotiations were to take place. There was a thick, low table in the center of the floor, ample chairs, and one of the walls was completely made of glass, tthe sole means of illumination being used. In the back, a miniature fountain babbled away. But none of this was what drew the attention of those that stepped in the room. Instead, the focus of everyone was undoubtedly absorbed by the two women who were already there. One was standing off to the side with a pensive expression and a what could only be described as a knock-off cowboy hat on her head. She glared at Tyr as soon as the door was open.

The other woman was much more striking, and had garnered more attention from her guests. She had sharp, elfish features, and was about Nish’s height. Her hair was long and cloud-white, even her eyebrows. Her presence filled the surroundings, reaching out from her body like invisible tendrils. The corners of her face moved almost imperceptibly upward as the Rebels came in, but even that little change was enough to put the visitors at ease. Her white robes ruffled when she got up from her seat.

“Welcome,” she said in a voice that was the perfect blend of masculine and feminine tones. “It’s good to finally meet you. I am your host, Astraea of Fyur.” She motioned to the other woman beside her. “And this is our sister, Kyla. She’ll be handling my security for today. I hope you don’t mind.”

No one knew how exactly to react to the leader of Fyur. The quiet was punctuated by a cough that Mangat was unable to keep in. Orin nudged Rey.

“Um… No, Lady Astraea, that is perfectly reasonable”, Rey stumbled along. “Your capital is wonderful, by the way, or at least every part we’ve seen is.” Orin nudged Rey again.

From the widening smile on Astraea’s face, Sonic could tell she was amused by her guests. “I’m glad you think that. Come, sit. Let us begin the negotiations while the sun is still here. Time goes so quickly when you’re hashing out administrative issues.” Her laugh was as the patter of spring rain: soft and enveloping. “Just a little joke. I like to start these discussions with some levity.” Astraea then sat back down, followed by the Rebels. Rey went up front by the host, opposite to Gareth. Orin and Nish sat next to her in descending order. The remaining seats were taken up by the rest of the Rebels.

Gareth rapped his fingers on the table as everyone got situated. “Ahem…” Astraea’s voice edged in. “I don’t wish to keep you in suspense, so let me start by coming to the heart of the matter: we on Fyur are worried about the threat that an unchecked First Order could pose, and we would like to offer you our aide so that they can be... dissolved—indefinitely.”

Rey adjusted herself in her seat, putting on her ‘serious business’ face. “We at the Rebellion are inclined to accept your offer. We think that with a little more backing the First Order can become nothing more than a bad memory. Though, of course, our cautioned approached is not because we don’t want to work with the Fyurian government. merely we wish to know what the exact nature of our agreement would be.” Rey’s eyes instinctively jumped to check with Orin and Nish. They both gave her surreptitious thumbs up.

Astraea folded her hands on the table. “Certainly. Our government wishes to form a mutual alliance of sorts. We expect that the Rebellion intends to fill the power-vacuum made by the vanishing of the First Order with their own forces, reshape the galactic landscape to one resembling that of the now defunct Republic. I assume you will even take the name back up. We would support that, especially if the Commonwealth of Fyur is made official allies of this new governmental body.”

Astraea opened her mouth to go on, but closed it and let out a thin sigh. “I’m saying this and I’ve just realized it sounds very impersonal. That is not what I wish.” She loosened her posture and went on, “Rey, ambassadors of the Rebellion, what the Fyurian government—what myself and my siblings want—is to be friends with the Rebellion, comrades in arms. Our aid does not come with spiderly strings attached to it. We want to do what’s right and, fortunately. have the means to enact our desire, that is all.”

Rey was taken aback. They had spent so much time practicing their etiquette, and here their host was nullifying the need for such pretenses. She looked around the table, as she did so meeting the skeptical gazes of her colleagues.

“Yes, we want to be friends as well. That’s not really a negotiation, though. As for forming an alliance, I believe that is something we can sign off on.” Astraea’s mouth had become a thin line. “I’m sorry,” Rey continued. “We came here expecting to discuss phlegmatic issues of bureaucracy. This is, well… a warmer reception than we anticipated.” Quickly adding, “it is a welcome surprise.”

Gareth raised his hand up in order to call the attention of the table. “You have to excuse us, Astraea has her own way of dealing with negotiations.” His sister nodded assentingly. “I think what she means is that the particulars of the alliance are open, but more importantly that there are no ulterior motives behind it on our part.”

Some light returned to Astraea’s face, figuratively speaking—but a cloud also sauntered off and stopped blocking the sun. “Exactly. I know that didn’t come out completely right from my mouth, but what my brother said is the gist of it. I’m excited to be meeting you, really. The Rebellion has been doing such great work recently. And you, Rey, are as captivating as I had hoped. The Force coils itself around you like a cloak, you know. It is beautiful, and a rare sight for me.”

Rey was becoming more perplexed. She worked at processing what Astraea had just said, milling it through the gears of her mind. How is it that she acts so familiar with them—with her? And what was she talking about with the whole ‘Force cloak’ thing? Rey closed her eyes for just a second, curious if she could feel anything off in the Force. To those as the table it would look like an innocuous blink. She didn’t expect to find anything interesting… but she did. That second was all it took to sense it, to feel it: the strength of the force, dense around and within the bodies of the two Fyurian women.

“You two are Force users?” Rey said, unable to hold the thought back from her lips.

“I should have led with that,” Astraea said playfully as she turned to her sister. Kyla pulled her hat down to hide her face. Rey shifted her gaze to Gareth.

“Not me,” he said. “I’m a bit of the black sheep of the family in that regard. To be honest I think I’m only kept around because I’ve got a mind for politics.”

The other Rebels were put off kilter by this revelation. It was as if the floor beneath them had shifted to become uneven. Force users were a rarity across the universe, and those that did exist were often very spread out. The chances of a royal family inheriting Force abilities was astronomically low. On edge and waiting for an awkward to break out, Sonic mentally went over how to create his fire. Tyr’s eyes adopted a sharper glint, and Rose straightened to attention. They had all seen what Rey could do with her abilities, how dangerous that power could be. Suddenly their hosts were potential threats. Orin shook his leg anxiously; he had not been aware of this or else would’ve briefed them for a solid hour on it.

The light in the room darkened as another cloud went past the sun. Rey cleared her throat. “You know you two are the only the third and fourth light-side Force users I’ve ever met,” she said, hoping the softball comment would ease the tension in the room.

“And you the only other Force member outside my family that I’ve ever met,” Astraea replied. “For sure the only Jedi I’ve ever met. You see, that is part of why I want to work with you: you’re naturally trustworthy, bound in service of the light as you are. Royalty in your own right, to tell the truth.”

A faint red crept onto Rey’s cheeks. “First your brother and now you; the Fyurian noble family flatters me greatly. But I truly am just a Jedi. From my experience, we’re not so special. In fact, I’m starting to think there may be a reason why all the others of my order have died out.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Astraea said. “The whole Rebellion has made tremendous gains, something that couldn’t be achieved without extreme competency.” The Rebels began to settle down again. They full well knew that they were getting buttered up to the same extent as a Boston lobster roll is, but their hosts seemed to be sincere in their compliments, so it worked regardless.

But Nish would not so easily be made complacent. “Lady, Astraea, if I may interject…” she said, resting her elbows on the table.

“Yes?”

“While I do think that it is important for our two groups to come to understand each other better, the issue of what our alliance will actually look like is still in the air. Shouldn’t we come to a consensus on that first, before diving into abstracts about the efficacy of Jedi?”

The sound of the fountain returned to the forefront as Astraea considered what Nish said. The room patiently waited for her to finish her thinking.“True, that is the purpose of the meeting. I do feel, however, that common ground is an important step to reach before getting into more detailed negotiations.”

“How strict is the itinerary?” Orin asked, at last having built up the courage to step in.

“It’s fairly open,” Gareth responded for his sister. “Kyla may have some things to attend to later, but my sister and I are open for all of today and tomorrow. Again, I stress that this negotiation is a big focus for us; we made appropriate room for it.”

“In that case,” Orin went on uncertainly, “we could pause here and resume the detailed talks at a later date. We may have jumped right into these political dealings too early. Some time to interact on a purely social level could get us to a better level of familiarity.”

“We’re not here to socialize Orin, despite how much I—how much we may want to,” Rey broke in. “This is a diplomatic mission, emphasis on ‘mission’.”

“I think he has a point,” Astraea countered. “So do you, of course, but I feel there is a middle ground we can come to. This is a sensitive issue; it may be that I’m letting my excitement get in the way of handling it properly. What I mean to say is that it could be wise for me to get the social aspect out of my system, for all of us to. These are stressful times, we need felicity in our lives occasionally to cut through the nerves.”

Gareth turned his head at the idea. “Socializing is an aspect of being a diplomat, lad— Rey, a pretty big one as far as I know. Our two organizations are meant to be friends; why shouldn’t we try to foster the same relations between the higher ups? Something to consider.”

Rey looked for a reaction from her colleagues. Mangat was hanging on every word of the Fyurians, as he hadn’t been treated so well by a host in his entire life. Most of the time they tried to sneak poison into his food. Rose seemed pretty annoyed with the whole display, in her mind there could be no room for pleasantries while the First Order was still out there. Sonic was more or less baffled by the events so far. When he got there, he was prepared for a long, sleep-inducing discussion on the minutiae of document sign-off or appropriate times for communication. Now, however, they were talking with two other Force users about the benefits of a quick soiree. These developments were not completely unappealing, but still.

“Do you have a proposal then?” Finn asked. “Of you don’t, a meal could be a nice way for us to get closer.”

“We have a dinner planned later,” Gareth said. “We could adjourn for now and come back together, though.”

“No,” Astraea insisted. “Too pedestrian. Meals are nice, but they can get stiff so easily. I have another idea. There is a beach just in the back of us, a very beautiful beach. It’s warm out and the tide is calm; why don’t we go and soak in the sun?”

“You want to go to the beach?” Rey asked with skepticism.

“I’m down with it,” Mangat insisted.

Astraea clapped her hands. “It’s settled then.” She got up from her chair and Kyla went after her. Gareth followed, an expression of contrition on his face for his sisters’ behavior. “It’s just this way,” Astraea said as she went over to the door, her retinue of siblings trailing behind her. Rey remained seated for a tense few seconds, her mouth threatening to fall agape, but she recovered herself quickly enough push her body up with the aid of the table.

“I guess we’re going with them,” she said, brow furrowed. No one objected. When you’re confused it’s generally better to go with the flow. Rey broke into a light jog to catch up with the nobles, plodding across the expensive looking hardwood floors in the hallways that were lined with tasteful paintings.

“I don’t think anyone brought a swimsuit,” Sonic stated with a level of seriousness that came across as comic.

“We don’t have to go swimming,” Nish responded. “I’m going back to sleep. Anyone who wishes to can join me.”

“No sleeping,” Orin panted, being far from used to physical exertion. “It would be rude to the Fyurians.”

They turned a corner and were back together with their hosts. “There you are,” said Astraea, “we were starting to fear you had fled.”

Rey sidled up to the group of three. “Of course not. Though, we were a little stricken by your proposition.”

Astraea laughed her gentle laugh. “I understand. Your Orin may have suggested the basic idea, but my modification is rather extreme. You’ll simply have to trust me when I say that seeing the beach will be worth it.”

“I’ve never seen a proper beach, so for me it almost surely will be.”

“Really? But you’re so well traveled.”

“Yeah, not a wealth of tropical planets out there… or biomes for that matter. The island I trained on with my master had a bluff overlooking the sea, but no beaches or anything. Now, sand is something I know a good deal about.”

Astraea perked up upon hearing Rey. “Your master… that was Luke Skywalker, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Rey replied more somberly. “I call him my master but we didn’t get to know each other very well before he passed. Still, the lessons he taught me were invaluable.” The large group continued to walk through the winding hallways and chambers of the mansion. With each room they crossed, Rey started to think the Fyurians themselves were lost. Various house staff greeted their employers as they passed them; there were almost as many staff members as were intelligence officers currently housed on the Beyblade, and Rey was positive said officers would never get her a cup of tea on command. So many people waiting on the whims of an elite few was… somewhat questionable if she thought about it.

“His absence is a great loss for the galaxy,” Astraea’s words took Rey out of her reverie (Reyverie?). “Luke’s that is. He was—is—a symbol. Then again, you yourself seem to have taken up the mantel, Rey.”

“Actually, I’m not positive where his cloak is. I assume it went with him to the spirit realm, or whatever that’s called. The one I’m using at pres— ”

Astraea chuckled. “I meant figuratively.”

“Oh.” Rey looked away, embarrassed. Gareth was quiet as he let the talk continue without interference. Tyr sniffled obliviously from behind them. “Still,” she went on, “my role is far from Luke’s, as far as I understand it. I’m not so much the front line powerhouse as I am the team leader.”

“I would consider that a good change, then. A group can always accomplish more than any single individual alone.”

“Absolutely. And the fight isn’t the same as it was back then; it’s more scattered now, real guerilla fighting. What I wouldn’t give for a single hub that could be blown up and result in the threat being destroyed forever. The First Order is smarter than that though. They learned their lesson after the first time, when we took out StarKiller Base.”

Astraea waved her hand in a perfunctory gesture. “It’s never about the infrastructure. You kill the leader and the troops will scatter like mice when faced with a cat.”

“Eh,” Rey dithered. “The power structure of the First Order is already loosened. Ren took up the role of Supreme leader immediately after Snoke died; who’s to say the same thing won’t happen with a taking his place Knight, or even Huxley?”

“Remove them as well. Their organization is already running out of figureheads, and those left are not all threats of the same degree. What I mean is, an army lead by Huxley alone might be easier to deal with. And all this blowing up is overrated. A well placed assassin can do more than almost any explosion. Subterfuge is the true engine of political change.”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. We have a limited spying operation.”

“Worth holding onto. It’s not the first tool to reach for, but if needed, it will work splendidly.”

“I could put Tyr on it,” Rey joked, “she’s our cleanest killer, and if I had to guess, I’d say she’s likely among the best out there. It’s a miracle she decided to work with us.”

“I know what you mean,” Astraea said looking at her sister. “Kyla frightens me sometimes with her capability.” Her expression didn’t change much, but Rey could tell Kyla was happy to hear that from her sister. The budget-cowboy started walking with more confidence. “Another one of our security team members is fearsome as well. A lucky catch on our part, she was working as a pilot for Gareth— actually, as chauffeur of sorts—and saved him from a group of bandits. Naturally, she was offered a position in the commonwealth after that. You may meet her later. I hope you do; she’s quite a fun person.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Oh,” Astraea said as they came across a door. “Were here. Sorry, I had you talk about business the whole way, despite the stated intention behind this change in scenery being entirely the opposite.”

“I enjoyed it.”

“That’s a good sign, but we have something more exciting coming up,” Astraea said as she pushed open the heavy door onto ivory sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaah, more characters. Yes, that's right, the time has come for me to unload more character names on you--a whopping three to start with. But worry not, these guys are going to get a lot of screen time (word allotment?) so you'll get 'em down soon enough. But don't if you do forget, because I noticed while editing that one of the nobles had an entirely different spelling for their name during their first appearance and I just kinda rolled with the new one. Also, get hyped for more sand. There will alot of sand next chapter, sand as course, rough, and irritating as you could possibly desire. There'll also be a large chunk giving you the skinny on the personalities of these new characters, so that's nice. 
> 
> Man, I really wanna go to the beach in real life.


	16. Tangents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as the tittle says, this chapter features a a couple of side-plots featuring the characters who I feel haven't gotten enough time so far (and more stuff for the characters who might've gotten too much time).

It was a very respectable spread. Sonic wasn’t familiar with many of the foods set out at the dinner table for the guests to eat, but that didn’t stop him—or anyone else there—from tearing into them. Fruits were the cuisine with the greatest representation, owing to the climate of the island. But the Fyurians had also provided some plant based proteins, as well as a few grains. It had been a long day, so the atmosphere of the dinner was informal, a fact which disappointed Orin after he had given such an accurate and meticulous explanation of table manners to his comrades.

By the time dessert was offered, no one but Poe could find enough room in their stomachs for another bite. This time the farewells were subdued, as each person fought against an oncoming food coma. Astraea and Rey made their well wishes, then the Rebels were back in the provided vehicles on the way to their rooms, Porg dozing off on Rey’s lap the whole ride.

The stars could be seen clearly in the sky, each one with their own solar systems, and in this dimension, Sonic was sure, with their own civilizations living there. For those on Fyur, the stars must have been akin to the light of nearby city, away from you, but not by much. They could get in a spaceship at any time and leave their world at will, start over again if they needed to. For the peoples of that dimension, the sky was no limit at all, nor the heavens ever from their reach. You’d think an existence like that would make someone humble, and maybe it did. Maybe that’s why they fought so much, because they always had to face their insignificance, and choose to rebel against it.

Sonic thought that must be how it is for Kylo Ren: an overwhelming need to prove yourself through domination. If you succeed, then, at last, all those stars would be reminders of your might, not your smallness. But that’s just the thing: those stars aren’t everything there is, not even close. They are one of an infinite collection, and that infinity is no doubt dwarfed by another, greater order.

It never ends. They don’t stop coming

For some that is a blessing, for others a torment. Just as how the endless buffet can be either a thrifty fill-up, or a challenge which brings upon your ruination. It is always wise to remember that too much free pizza will, eventually, make anyone sick.

Sonic was feeling something close to a food-sickness when they arrived at their rooms, the result of having eaten too much at dinner. Fortunately he had just enough energy left in the tank to pull Rey aside before she went off to bed.

“What’s up?” she asked, her words punctuated by a deep yawn.

Sonic successfully stifled a yawn in response, and said, “Astraea, she knows about me. She knows that I’m not from… here.”

She instantly knew what that meant, and it woke Rey up about as well as splash of ice-water to the face. “What? How?”

“She approached me and said she sensed that I’m an ‘interloper.’ I tried to play dumb, but I’m a pretty poor liar, as you know, so she just pressed on and in the end I admitted it to her.”

Rey bit her thumb lightly. “Do you think she’ll keep it to herself?”

“I don’t think it will reach outside the family, at least.”

“They are our allies,” she said, wincing, “so I suppose it’s okay. Only, I’m surprised she was able to tell that easily. She leads on that her Force powers are quaint, nothing much to speak of, but I seriously doubt that’s the truth. Frankly, I know it isn’t. The energy I saw around her was greater than I saw for both of the Knights of Ren I’ve fought. And that was only what I got by looking for a fragment of a second.”

“I’ve gotten the same vibe from her. It didn’t seem menacing, though.”

Rey sighed. “No, me neither. She’s an odd one, however that could be said about all of us. I even think I like her.” Rey crossed her arms and leaned onto the hallway wall. “How about you? What are your early impressions?”

“Mostly the same. I believe she wants us to like her family, not only for the alliance. So far she’s getting her wish. It isn’t all about charisma with her, either. She seems to care about us as individuals rather than as tools to be leveraged.”

Rey closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The initial shock from Sonic’s words may have given her a jolt of adrenaline, but that had quickly worn off and Sonic was once again reminded of how much energy the day had sapped from everyone.

“I’ll be having another meeting with Astraea tomorrow once the confirmation from HQ comes in; I can ask her about it then. For now, we can let the issue rest as is.”

“Okay, I’ll leave it to you then,” Sonic said as he set off toward his room, “and make sure to get some sleep.”

He was already out of sight, but Rey nodded like he was still right next to her. “Yeah, these beds make it easy,” she said to herself.

Morning came with as much sun as the last, which for the record, meant quite a lot. Rey was up early, waiting for the response from the General to come. Despite that annoyance she did seem well rested. A good mattress can make all the difference—well, that, and the fact she went to sleep pretty much thirty seconds after Sonic left. No activities were planned for the rest of the Rebels, so it was mutually decided that they would have the day to do whatever they wished in the capital (‘whatever’ being somewhat limited to what Orin told them was proper behavior as guests).

Nish creatively and characteristically took this time to get caught up on her beauty sleep. Conversely, Sonic, Tyr, and Porg decided that they’d like to explore the outskirts of the city a bit. In a more surprising decision, Finn and Poe invited Rose and Terho to go out on a double date… an invitation which, amazingly, was accepted.

Mangat opted to stay at the house with Orin; Orin to wait with Rey, Mangat so he could have a chance of tagging along with her when she went to deliver the message to the estate of the Fyurian noble family.

A waning morning found the Rebels split around the different areas of Fyur’s capital, each splinter group with their own objectives and intentions. There was a wide area to explore, and each group’s story would unfold in a separate corner of it.

The mismatched pair of couples walked languidly along the gravel path leading to the city itself. It was still warm, and the flora of their surroundings was as cheerful as always. The same, however, was not true of the two couples that traveled by each other; both sets had fallen away to either side of the path, so much so that they were nearly off it. Finn kept his eyes soundly at his feet, and Rose was fighting a desperate battle against the grimace forming on her face.

She knew why they had agreed to the outing, but couldn’t help regretting it nonetheless. That old wound was long due for stitches and a good scrubbing with alcohol. Anymore time left open to the elements and it would begin to fester. That fact didn’t make it even a fraction less awkward. And awkward it was. What’s worse is that the couples didn’t have a clear idea of what they were going to do when they actually got to the city. Terho, for his part, had a cautious anticipation that they would finally break through their discomfort, and rejuvenate the personal connections once possessed. Poe was mostly just hungry for more Fyurian cuisine.

“So…” Finn muttered without moving his eyes off his feet. The word fell out, but the sentence drowned in what was essentially an audible ellipsis—as well as the plaintive groaning coming from Poe’s stomach. They sunk back into silence. Terho sneezed as an invisible clump of pollen lodged itself in his nose.

“Looks like the weather’s gonna be clear again today,” Rose offered.

Finn stared at the sky as if he had never considered such a thing could exist. “Hmm, it does, doesn’t it?”

“Yep. Better than at headquarters, that’s for sure.”

“A bit too hot for my tastes,” Terho declared.

“I have been sweating a good deal,” conceded Poe, “not too unlike being in the cockpit— stuffy things those are.”

Rose kicked a smooth pebble laying on the gavel path in front of her. It clunked off into the brush and a particularly perturbed lizard scrambled out in response. They weren’t getting anywhere, and she was aware of that.

“Listen,” she said in an apprehensive softness, “I’m just going to come out and say it: I’m sorry I got you all mixed up, Finn, and I’m sorry for treating you so poorly for the past months.” Rose was worried it had come out acerbic, a little splash of bile on an otherwise pleasant, contemplative walk, but Finn’s eyes widened after she said it, and gave her a look of intense relief.

“Completely accepted,” he told her.

Rose also felt that beatific relief when he gave her his response; it was the signal that whatever had occurred could go to rest, and they could start out new again. “Thank you,” she said. “We had a good friendship, and I feel terrible for ruining it.”

“It was never ruined,” Finn said, “only… wounded.”

Poe patted him lightly on the back. “Like yourself.”

Finn didn’t even wince. Poe looked thoroughly impressed. “Exactly, and like myself it has the capacity to heal.”

Terho noticed a lightness of demeanor spread over Rose, of the kind she rarely showed outside the times they were alone together—or else during a very pleasant dream. “Then maybe we should have brought Mangat along,” she said with a chuckle. “He did a good job helping you, so he could likely do the same for us.”

“Absolutely. He knows a lot more about medicine than I thought he would. Not Nish, though, she’s never heard of the hippocratic oath.”

“Whereas Mangat has,” Terho joined in, “and choices to ignore it in certain circumstances.”

The foliage by the side of the path began to diminish and soon buildings from the city could be seen rising in the distance, and with it came the various noises that always accompany a city as its ambient soundtrack. The group of four Rebels was settled now, and walking closer to each other. “It’s a step up from Anaclee,” Poe said.

“In terms of development it is,” Rose corrected. “That’s not an infallible marker of an improved society.”

“Okay, okay, it’s got taller buildings,” responded Poe, going along with Rose. “Is that a more accurate statement?”

She shrugged. “It’s a fact.”

“I am curious to see how the average citizen functions on Fyur,” Finn contributed. “We may have gotten a skewed view from being in that opulent palace the nobles call their home. Let’s hope the flow of currency isn’t being funneled into such an overbearing thing.”

“Oh, do we have a convert over here?” Rose said with a smirk.

“Convert? I’ve been on this political stuff since the day I left the First Order. Please, just because I’m not vocal about it doesn’t mean these thoughts aren’t running through my head. Plus, what self-respecting Rebel would I be if I wasn’t on the swivel to check how a society is organized?” He jostled Poe’s hair. “And you would do better to listen to Rose when she offers her opinions on these matters. We need her perspective if we want to stay assured we’re not missing anything.”

“Yes, yes”, Poe said as he got his hair back to the precise level of unkempt he liked it to be at. “Unity is key, I know. I hope we’ll have time to fit in some grub into our schedule with all this anthropological study going on.”

His boyfriend laughed. “We’re going to eat first, naturally. Study should never be done on an empty stomach.”

“And no one said the majority of our time out would be spent on study,” Rose jumped in. She shrugged at an incredulous look from Poe. “Even I know how to unwind.”

“I’ll second that,” Terho confirmed.

In the opposite direction of this first group, the second detachment of Rebels was themselves loosely ambling on even less well demarcated paths towards… somewhere.

Do you think we missed it? asked Porg from his place cradled in Tyr’s hands.

“I don’t think that’s actually possible,” said Sonic. “It’s called the ‘outskirts’, and we are certainly outside the bounds of the city, as for that matter outside those the noble estate as well.”

“Maybe we’re already in it?” offered Tyr.

“Maybe,” said Sonic. “But if we are, then not in the part where people live.”

What did Gareth tell you exactly about this place?

“He told me it was a good place to find some quiet if that’s what you wanted. He said, and I quote, ‘take a short walk away from the palace and you'll come across some modest settlements.’”

Tyr worked this out in her brain as they continued their aimless walk. “What if we head for the sea?” she said at last. “People always settle by the sea; it’s a great place to get food.”

“That’s…” Sonic said, “a very good idea.”

Yes, back to the sea, the great mother of us all.

Sonic sighed. “You don’t have to make it weird, Porg.”

Sorry. Force of habit. My people built a religion around the sea, so I still hold some of those same views about it.

“I thought your people barely had language? How could you have a structured religion?”

It wasn’t structured, and maybe not even a religion. I suppose you could call it a kind of reverence. There was a collective understanding that the sea is something holy. We didn’t have rituals or anything.

“I see, so more agnostic.”

Sonic, Tyr, and Porg walked on until they reached a rocky crag against which the sea was smashing with its primordial might. Heavy waves smacked against the rock’s surface and broke into an explosion of foaming blue. Sonic caught a splash of that salty spray right in the face. “Nothing here,” he declared while wiping the water off his fur.

Tyr squatted down and peered across to the shoreline.

“There,” she said flatly. And sure enough, as Porg and Sonic followed her eyeline, they saw in the far distance a mass of buildings with roofs harshly shimmering. “Hmm,” she went on. “Guess they’re very keen on being found. It’s like a daytime disco party over there.”

“Even more reason for us to check it out. I haven’t danced in… well, in eight years. And believe me, I can tear up the dance floor—literally if I’m really in the mood. Good catch, by the way.”

Tyr grunted as if to say “no problem,” then stood erect again. “I’ve never been a dancer in the traditional sense. I enjoy the dance of the battlefield, but I’ve so far been unable to get a hang on the Yoda Slide.”

I don’t think my body’s physically capable of dancing. However, I would be willing to give it a try. 

Sonic turned on his heel and set off to the brightly lit town. “It’s settled then, we’re going to go check it out.”

The village was some ten minutes away by foot, but when they got there the Rebels were disappointed to find the people there were, in fact, not dance fiends with a massive disco ball, and instead mere sagacious architects who had added reflective roofing in order to keep their homes cooler.

This blows. Can’’t believe they’d get our expectations up like that.

“I don’t think that was the intention,” Sonic said. “But I can’t say I’m not a little upset either. Tyr, could you remind me to set up a dance on the Beyblade when we next get a chance?”

“Will do.” She would not.

The three Rebels stood by the entryway to the village in awkward silence.

Now what?  
“We’re here,” Sonic said resignedly, “might as well see what they have going on that isn’t a dance party.”

“There’ll be something to do,” Tyr said in an attempt to be encouraging.

Sonic nodded but didn’t entirely believe there would be. At least they were by the ocean; that had to be worth something. The reflected light was a brilliant sight as well, and probably would have been appreciated more had it not forced the visitors to squint and shade their eyes from its harsh glow. As they went into the populated parts, they noticed that everyone happened to be wearing sunglasses of some sort. Such it is with certain issues, your solution will often come with new problems of its own; only in this case the secondary solution made everyone look super suave (and a small group of merchants extremely wealthy from the increased demand for sunglasses).

The town was fairly quaint; not a major leader in industry, but nonetheless an important gear in the great work that was the capital of Fyur. The people of that village were among the greatest experts in fishing across the continent, and the salt they produced was valued highly for its unique flavor. There was also one more unique aspect of the village—that being that it was the only place where a person could compete in the sport of “bond-surfing.”

The Rebels were fortunate to have arrived when one of the annual cups for said sport was being carried out. This fact wasn’t readily apparent. However the streets of the village did seem oddly empty, and the cove at the other end especially busy. A mass of people could just barely be made out as they thronged a beach around the blue-green waters. Cries and cheers evaporated from the crowd and made their way over to where the Rebels looked on in amazement.

“There may be a party yet,” Tyr chuckled.

“So it appears,” replied Sonic.

They crossed through the mostly deserted streets, bypassed the watchful guard assigned to the vendor’s marketplace, and finally came to the edge of the crowd. With how tightly packed the tall backs of the onlookers were, Sonic feared he wouldn’t get a good vantage-point to watch whatever spectacle was unfolding, but as Tyr approached, the people in front of her were suddenly, inexplicably overcome with an instinctive sense of self-preservation causing them to part without her even needing to nudge against their bodies. Still, Tyr held Prog tightly on the off chance he might fall and get lost in the sea of people—he didn’t mind, being more focused on the shapes cutting across the violent sea.

This is tremendous, his said directly in their minds. I’m ashamed that I never thought of it before.

The tremendous thing which Porg was referring to was the pairs of Fyurians—by their appearances not all local to the village—who were participating in the race. Each team was positioned with one of them floating on their straight backs, with the other one top of the first, riding them over the crashing waves. The first of the team was burdened with keeping perfect balance as to allow their partner to navigate each current that arose.

“Can’t be too safe,” Sonic commented, his voice raised to overcome the cheers.

“Sports are not about safety,” Tyr countered, her low, heavy tone able to circumvent pedestrian conventions like volume. “Though I’m personally not a huge fan of them. Just a watered down version of the original, really. If you want violence you might as well go all out; there are more than enough outlets for those who are willing to look.”

Porg telepathically sent a noise of skepticism (he was getting better with emotive sounds) to both their minds.

I don’t think it’s fair to say this stupendous creation is predicated on violence. I would go as far to say this is an exercise in harmony. He motioned with his fin to one of the contestants closest to them. Take this team as an example, the man below needs to keep his spine completely rigid, or else he would risk both his and his partner’s chances of winning. And likewise, his partner is responsible for executing the moves that I’m guessing grant… points? Actually I’m not sure how they score this, but I think you’ve gotten the idea. This is how water is meant to be used; as a connector of souls.

Sonic doubted that was the true motivation behind the origins of this thing that could only loosely be called a sport. More likely it was a bar-room bet that had unwisely been taken up, and which sparked a wild obsession in the spectators who saw an opportunity to discard all their boredom for the foreseeable future. It was quite a sight though, he had to agree. The competitors were passionate and so were the fans. With all the activity, there was a lot to be passionate about. Riders and ridees soared through the centers of huge, cylinder shaped waves that closed in right after they exited. Moreover, it was a constant battle for the competitors to keep the ‘board’ from having their bamboo snorkels be submerged or clogged up with salt water; the amounts that did get in were spat out as miniature geysers.

“We should join in,” Tyr said after seeing one particularly impressive stunt. “Show them how true warriors fight.”

“Again, not a battle strictly speaking,” Sonic responded. Also my fur would create too much drag in the water.”

“Then I will be the board.”

“That isn’t the problem. I was only trying to think of an excuse.”

Tyr deflated. “Fine. Keep in your mind, though. Remember you can always change your opinion later.”

Sonic begrudgingly agreed to try to himself open where entering the contest was concerned.

The Rebels watched the teams of surfers taming the foam until the competition reached its halftime. Some spectators stayed on the beach by the main cove, but others (the Rebels among them) went back into the village to stretch their legs before returning to the festivities. Sonic picked up three pairs of sunglasses for them—one in toddler size for Porg—and then they were resting at a table by an open air restaurant, decorated in the universally prevalent tiki-design. Tyr had a tall glass of ice water, Porg a cup of the local tea, and Sonic was sipping on a vibrant yellow liquid with a mini umbrella in it. Only time would tell if it was an intoxicant or not.

I’m enjoying this planet, said Porg. Their customs are so unique, and the climate is nostalgic for me… well almost. We didn’t have proper beaches back home, but the sea was always there.

Tyr crushed an ice-cube between her teeth. “It’s okay, I have no problems with it so far. People seem a little soft, though. That advisor, Gareth, probably wouldn’t even be able to stomach squashing a bug.”

“Oh?” chided Sonic. “How about Kyla? You were glaring at her throughout the whole meeting. I caught you checking on her a few times at the beach, as well.”

Tyr almost choked on the fragments of ice. “That’s different,” she said after a hearty cough. “She’s different. That woman has fangs… not like Mangat has fangs.” She mimicked his teeth by putting her fingers up to her mouth as if she were Dracula, though she had never heard that name in her life. “Well, you probably get what I mean.”

“Our Tyr’s getting infatuated,” Sonic pressed on.

“No,” she said looking him dead in the eyes, piercing the sunglasses with ease, not threateningly but with a hint of a warning. “It’s nothing like that.” Sonic lasted only a moment before he had to meekly turn away—apparently she’d found a way to hide daggers in her eyes as well as in her fanny pack.

“I get it,” he assented, after Tyr settled back down. “She has a powerful presence, like she’s waiting for something to go wrong all the time.”

Tyr leaned back in her chair. “There, now we’re on the same page. I don’t mind the rest of them, but Kayla’s one to look out for.”

I concur. The hat lady does have a menacing air about her, reminds me of the eyes of a predator, and I know better than most what it’s like to be on the other side of those.

Sonic rested his head in his palm. “Then again, it is her job to keep a lookout for threats. She wouldn’t be a very good security head if she was placidly thinking to herself all the time. Anyway, let’s not waste too much time talking business, that was what yesterday was about. I don’t know about you, but I prefer to actually enjoy the increasing amount of breaks we’re receiving.”

Porg lapped up a thimble-sized portion of his tea. You’re mind is so focused on breaks, Sonic.

“You’re dang right, I haven’t had a decent one for a good six years, not since I got merged with the allst—joined up with the Rebellion. And we deserve to enjoy this time. Call it ‘saving our strength for the coming battle’, if it makes you feel better.”

Tyr blew a raspberry. “It’s unnecessary to take breaks before returning to the fight… on the macro-level at least. When I was still on the grind, I would rarely have a day between jobs, and as you know, my performance was unaffected. My undefeated record has yet to be broken.”

Partly because of Sonic.

Tyr frowned at Porg but made no response.

I saw your fight against that bald knight; he had you on the ropes before Sonic came up.

“Obviously that just means we make a good team,” Tyr commented, clinking her nails against the water glass. She pointed a thick finger at Porg. “And you don’t know for a fact that I can’t produce fire when I get knocked in the head as well. Not to lessen my appreciation for your intervention,” she added quickly, turning to Sonic.

He waved a hand to show he didn’t mind, and took another sip of his drink. To his mind, if anyone deserved credit for their battlefield accomplishes, it was Tyr. She had a kill count that, if printed out, would probably run the length of a good sized dissertation, and one for a philosophy major, at that. Sonic imagined Tyr was really some space alpha predator that had eaten enough humanoid brains to grant it her new shape. Though if she had originated as such a creature, it must be one with an oddly inborn talent for using blasters.

An interesting idea presented itself to Sonic as he followed this trail of thought about Tyr’s origins. “You must have made pretty good coinage from your jobs,” he said in a tone more befitting a question.

“Only the weirdos gave me coins,” Tyr replied, grinning. “But yes, I did make a comfortable living through my services.”

What did you do with all of it, then? Because right now you don’t appear to have enough money to get a decent haircut.

Had Tyr not been close to Porg, had he not been made sentient but a year ago, and had he not been up there with the cutest animals in existence, he might have woken up several days later in a cot with a severe pounding in his, hopefully, unfractured skull. But Tyr considered herself a changed woman from the one who’d do such things, which was not entirely inaccurate. So all she did was shrug. “I save a pretty decent amount cutting it myself,” she said diplomatically. “To answer your question, though, I used the money to buy a small planet for myself.”

Sonic snorted. “Didn’t know you were working on your sense of humor as well.”

Tyr cocked her head. “How do you mean?”

“Well—” Sonic laughed before catching on to her lack of reaction, then immediately sobered up. “Oh. Nevermind.” The voices of the other patrons filled in the silence left by Sonic as he came to terms with this new fact about his teammate.

“But why?” he continued after a minute of contemplation.

“It’s an easy way to insure your credits if the location is right; and planet Tyr happens to be in the Ouvre quadrant, right next to the merchant’s octagon.”

“Hmm,” sonic muttered with his chin in his hand. There’s only so many times you can be surprised before you begin to simply accept even the most incredible things.

Porg, however, was always craving a new piece of information, and he sat up from his prone position on the table. Does anyone… live there? On Planet Tyr?

Tyr caught a waiter and asked if they carried any food. They did, it was all fruit. Once she had finished her order, one she looked actively disappointed with having to settle on, she got back to Porg. “Some colonists do. I don't care what they do with the place as long as it stays intact and I get my 5% tax. Nice people, treat me very well whenever I come to visit. One time they made me some tapestries with my face on them that they hung over their doors. I’ve even seen their gifts on a couple other planets. Must’ve taken them along when they moved.”

“Doesn’t that, like, make you a queen or something?” Sonic offered, usually quicker on the uptake, but currently working slower as he recovered from shock.

“Um, they call be ‘empress’, so I guess that’s kinda close.”

It’s higher, Porg said, now entranced by the situation.

Tyr laughed heartily. “Cool. Bet that means I’m on the same level as that Astraea woman.”

Sonic was beginning to wish that his drink had actual alcohol in it, and increasingly entertaining Tyr’s offer to go compete in the bond surfing competition, if only to give him something to focus on other than this. He shuddered at the thought of later going off to negotiate another alliance with the colonists of Planet Tyr—and whatever places they had spread to by this point. The waiter came back a moment later with an elaborately organized plate of fruit—animals and other shapes being cut out of the plants. The Rebels made short work of the plate, despite the fact that they were developing an aversion to the stuff having eaten so much of it in the past days.

“You’d think they’d sell fish in a fishing community,” Tyr said once they were done.

“Somebody must,” Sonic replied. “Just not this place.” He lazily gazed around at the other tables and the well tanned Fyurians who sat there. He only saw more fruit. It was in extremely complex configurations, but still. Sonic was amazed the locals had survived on such a homogenous diet for as long as they had. One thing’s for sure, he thought, they’ll never get scurvy. There was another thing that caught his eye, though, and that was the two, decidedly non-local, people who were a few tables away from them. Maybe ‘people’ wouldn’t be the best way to consider them, because one of those individuals would resent that title as being lesser to that of ‘droid’. They looked curiously familiar, but for whatever reason Sonic couldn’t place them, or understand why that was. The memory hung a hair's width from his grasp. There was too much going on, what with Tyr’s new status and the negotiation that was still technically underway, so he let himself drop the inquiry.

Sonic may have been unable to remember them, but the same was not true for those two individuals. Gavino and Salara remebered Sonic well. In fact, that was the only reason they had come there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a fairly inconsequential chapter, but I feel it turned out alright. It sets some things up, too, which is good. Anyway, this one came together fairly quickly so I should be able to post the next one a little ahead of schedule. And the next chapter is quite a doozy. 'Till next time!


	17. Beneath a Non-binary Star/ The Beach Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of exposition, but the fun kind, I promise. Rey has a lengthy conversation with Astraea while the rest of the gang chills at the beach. Sonic gets a little mopey again.

Sprays from the ocean filled the air with its salty scent, and the water was clear enough that a person could see myriad aquatic life swimming in its depths. The sand was clean-white and extremely fine, the result of a breakdown of calcareous substances from millenium past. A beach of ground bones, if you will. Though it was less a beach and more a miniature cove, with plant life on the far edges along with coral under the water.

Rey was left to look on in awe at the crashing waves. “This is much nicer than I imagined,” she said softly.

“Our escape from daily life,” Astraea said, spinning around on loose sand. “A place of perfect contemplation. The public doesn’t even know this is here; it’s the one thing we keep selfishly to ourselves. I consider it the main reward for our successes and hard work.”

“It wouldn’t be a great generator of income anyway,” Gareth offered, “this land—being as small as it is. I personally don’t feel too guilty about it. Being a noble is meant to have some perks, no?”

Rey heard him, but she wasn’t looking their way. Her eyes were stuck on the water and the way the sun played on the surface of it. “True,” she said halfheartedly, barely having heard the question.

Sonic, too, found himself taken in by the wonder of the beach… along with the rest of the Rebels. They came onto the sand gingerly, convinced from its fineness that it must be a frail illusion. “Are there any towels to rest on,” Nish asked carefully.

“No”, Astraea replied. “But the sand won’t be overly hot today, and it will come off your clothes alright.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind getting dirty.” Nish’s projected faux-coolness was immediately overshadowed when Tyr ran straight into the water and began swimming out.

“It’s nice and warm,” she said between breaths.

Nish paused and then followed her out saying, “hold up, wait for me.”

Astraea’s bright smile and white hair seemed right at home with the surroundings. “Here, let’s sit down,” she said to the Jedi. Rey complied, and so did Astraea’s siblings. They remained in silence except for the playful splashing of Nish and Tyr, as well as Finn’s subdued voice as he talked with Poe.

“Tell me more about yourself,” Astraea suggested after a time. “If you’re not comfortable with that, we could switch roles.”

Rey switched the hand she was holding up to shade her eyes from the sun. “I wouldn’t say I’m comfortable with it, but I can share with you some pieces of my history.”

“No pressure. Tell me whatever you want to. I’ll do the same for you.”

“Common ground is vital,” Rey added. “I know that’s all you’re looking for.” So she gave Astraea an abridged version of her childhood years, as well as her early interactions with the Rebellion and the First Order. Astraea hardly move as she listened, the only indication of motion being hoe the wind winnowed her hair.

“You’ve been fighting this whole time,” she said when Rey was finished.

“That’s what I know how to do best. I built myself to be able to survive; that attitude's only compounded since.”

Astraea pushed a hand into the yielding sand, picked some of it up, and then let it fall through her fingers. “It is harsh, I know, having to adopt such tenacity from an early age.”

“You’ve had a similar experience?”

Astraea confirmed Rey’s question by not saying anything. Rey, in turn, did not press her to give a solid answer. She was aware of how these things went: if Astraea wished to talk about it then that was her choice, and the same was true of the opposite. A seabird cawed from somewhere in the distance, and the words from the other Rebels continued to drift over.

“Let’s just say that Fyur’s reunification was not without its difficulties,” Astraea spoke as the gentle tropical breeze, “or its costs.”

“In other words: our parents,” came the first words Rey had heard Kyla speak. Her voice was not rough like Rey had expected it would be, but lilting in the same way as her sister’s.

“Not afraid to get right to the point,” Gareth said with a dry laugh, done in an attempt to fool himself of the rawness of the wound. “Your words are valuable, Kyla, I know. Wouldn’t do to waste them on anything else but the most important circumstances.”

Astraea didn’t provide any other comment. In fact, Rey saw that she had been withdrawing since the topic had first been raised.

“You may know, Fyur’s government was fractured up until the last five years, when we took matters into our hands,” Gareth pressed forward. This must have been a discussion that the siblings usually avoided, because he was talking like it had weighed on him longer than was healthy. “It was a squabble between factions, utterly pointless. But a broken peace takes years to return to once blood has been spilled. Our family was one of those that got caught up in that conflict. We’ve always been nobles, and at the time that meant our parents were forced to pick a side.” Gareth checked to make sure Astraea was okay with him going on. She made no sign of protest.

“They picked the wrong one… and are gone because of that. We survived, though. We made it out, away from the fighting. Conditions were not ideal early on. We had to scrounge. But we were patient, building up strength the whole time until we were ready and able to return home.”

“And what a homecoming it was,” Astraea contributed now that the worst part of their story was over. “We came in with such gusto, put the factions in their place and created the government new again… without the influence of factions. One group rules, as elected by the people; and that group is this small family of noble blood.”

“I heard you had a hand in the reunification of this commonwealth, but no one told it was you three alone,” Rey said.

“Not entirely alone,” Astraea admitted freely. “No, not at all really, that would be nigh impossible. We had help. I do, however, retain that our family was the symbol the people rallied to. We had a captivating story and a strong presence that drew support—a winning combination in politics.”

Rey had no reason to disbelieve Astrea. Still, she got the impression that the white haired woman was selling herself short in all this. Rey couldn’t buy that she was only a lucky game piece. No, she’d seen Nish play before and Astraea seemed to carry an aura closer to the one exuded by a person making the moves: a cool, relaxed control. Rey saw Nish spit a jet of water in Tyr’s face in the ocean away from them, and her line of thought was severed right there. What was she thinking? Was that the action of a mastermind? Her raven haired companion was intelligent, but no supreme strategist. Rey thought she was just getting her wires crossed, and returned to the conversation.

“Every organization needs a person that can be looked to for information,” she said. “Just as Kylo is the backbone of the First Order, you hold a special position bolstering the morale of your citizens. For me as well, I’ve recently come to understand just how big a symbol I am for the Rebellion.”

“Very true,” Astraea commented. “Every organization needs a face, makes it easier for us to understand them. How silly it is that we have to personify institutions before they can be mentally engaged with. A chimera should be left as just that, no need to ascribe it a personality.”

Rey grunted in stern agreement. She found it nice to unload her personal qualms with a figure in a similar situation as she was. Embodying the ideals of an entire group is a constant weight and frequent annoyance. “While we’re vaguely on the topic,” Rey said, “your brother told me shortly after arriving that you have a ‘dream’ for what this galaxy could look like. Could you give me a better idea of what that might look like?”

Astraea poked at Gareth’s side. “Giving out personal information now?” she gently chided him. “Next you’ll be reading my personal diary out loud in the city’s main thoroughfare.”

“I think Rey is someone worthy of vouchsafing this to,” Gareth defended himself as his body was rocked minutely by the pokes.

“Oh, I know,” Astraea admitted, “I’m only joking with you. And I do have a dream, Rey—well, ‘plan’ or ‘vision’ might be better ways to put it.” Asraea stopped poking her sibling and moved a strand of hair away from her face. The sun was still high in the sky, and it shone down on Astraea’s white mane, dripping down from it onto her resplendent robes. She was as Circe waiting on her lone island, gazing out from the shore and waiting for a traveler to pass by.

Her voice had a more wistful quality when she spoke up again. Rey prepared herself for a monologue; restive silences are nine-times-out-of-ten followed by a monologue, the other ten percent of the time it’s a cough or fart (8% cough, 2% fart, I did the math).

“The universe is naturally full of pain; acrid, seething pain. The people and individuals that I have seen are not living lives that fulfill them, or else are actively making existence worse for others. We who reside on this plane accept these things as a given. ‘The world isn’t fair,’ they say. Why shouldn’t it be? Or, as I see it, what’s preventing it from being so? As you know, Rey, the Force is a wonderful thing. It gives much needed perspective to those who were previously ignorant. I think I am one of those people who has been granted new perspective by the Force. Instead of being bound by unseen powers, I believe that the real thing holding us back is our willingness to see.

“The Force is among the fundamental energies that holds this universe together, yet someone like you or me can wield this energy whenever we feel like it. What does that say about the limits of conscious, rational beings? Does it not make sense that such a fact provides evidence that we are the ones in control, and always have been? Reality is, at its core, a construct formed by the collective—a collective construct. What the mass thinks it sees is accepted as truth, becomes truth. Paradoxically, the individual untethered by a collective can change everything from the outside, construct and all. Those above the construct can guide its flow, move it in the direction best for everyone below”

“That’s a radical theory,” Rey said. “If I understand it right—which I doubt I do.”

Astraea chuckled. “It is super quixotic, isn’t it? I must have too much time on my hands. But, I do think the people of this galaxy, and the universe at large, deserve some help. We can start providing that help by taking down the First Order.”

“So destroying the First Order’s hold on the galaxy is only your inaugural move toward this wider… plan.”

“If all goes well. After all, positive change cannot be done without removing the poison afflicting us. Once we have done that, the pathway to a fully peaceful galaxy will be opened up.”

“A fully peaceful Galaxy?” Rey wondered out loud at the thought. “I wouldn’t even begin to know what that would look like.”

“Like the truth revealed; a mirage dissipating to show that the oasis was right in front of you.”

“You wax poetic quite well, Astraea. You’re already convincing me of something I shouldn’t rationally have hope in.”

“Keep that hope. It will be needed to get through these last battles. I can’t give you guarantees, Rey, but I can give you our help, and assure you that yours will be met with gratitude. Follow the instinct of the Force, restore balance where chaos has weeded in. Heck, we could even change the balance if we put our heads together.”

Astraea only continued to astound Rey. She doubted anything was ever simple around the snow haired ‘Lady’. Gravitas didn’t come nearly close enough to describe it. Conviction was what gave Astraea her strong appeal, Rey was beginning to dawn on it. She felt her body buoyed up on the sand which was so different from that which haunted her dreams, and felt that this newly discovered Force user had the conviction to carry out her dream. When Kylo or anyone else declared something expansive and bold like ‘killing the past in order to start over’, there was always hesitation behind it, a dithering nature that what they were saying was a fragile wish. This was not so with Astraea; she entirely convinced that her desires could come true with the correct execution. What is it to move a mountain when the power to call an earthquake lies at your fingertips? that look of hers said.

“I think you can rest assured that we will agree to be your allies,” Rey said. “You and your group seem hyper competent, and I personally have no issues with your ethics. I doubt my superiors will either. You’re enamoring, to be perfectly honest—your whole family is. Be prepared, though, because after this agreement is finalized the higher ups of the Rebellion will want to go on the offensive as soon as possible. I don’t know how you play it, but for us Rebels, once we lay in to someone, we don’t let up for anything.

“A better philosophy I don’t believe I’ve ever heard. We want this reign of darkness cast off just as strongly as you do. Pick the place and we’ll be there.” Astraea reached over to touch Rey’s knee and looked her straight in the eyes. “And, Rey, never hesitate to call on me personally if you need to. I already consider you a friend; that is a big deal for me because I’m afraid to admit I don’t have many.”

Rey was caught by those eyes with their warm, light-house glow. She was the wary sailor and Astraea was there to guide her back to shore, to a cozy hearth. Of course, they already were on the shore, most comfortably in fact, and it was not night. But experienced sensation doesn’t ever follow much logic, so that was how Rey experienced it. And she would tell you, it felt pretty real to her. “We’ll be here for a few days while everything gets sorted out,” Rey said. “There will be plenty of time for us to keep in touch; we should make use of it.”

“That’s the spirit. Personal bonds are not to be taken lightly.” Astraea stretched out on the sand. “Now then, I believe we’ve neglected your comrades long enough. We should get back to them.”

Rey looked at the figures joyously playing in the water. “They’re probably okay, but let’s go anyway.”

Sonic basked in the tropical air from his spot on the beach. Minute specks of spray from the Rebels swimming in the water fell on his face. Tyr and Nish had wanted him to join them, but he knew what happened when he got his fur too wet, and politely declined. He kept close to Poe and Finn in their shaded spot. They conversed lightly while Rey and the Fyurian nobles hashed out whatever topic they had settled on. There was a very serious air to that side of the beach where Rey was; Sonic thought there must have been some intense monologuing going on.

He didn’t trust the Fyurians, not entirely. They had a smooth, refined appearance, but their actions were strange and sporadic to his eyes. Sonic didn’t get the same casual vibe from them as he initially did from his mercenary group, that’s for sure. To him they kinda had the aura of bankers in the way that: you’re sure they’re nice people, but at the same time nor would you be against giving them an extensive lie-detector test. This led Sonic to think about whether his home bank account was still there, and the amount of interest it had accrued. Or if he was declared dead already. Just as this thought further progressed to Sonic trying to remember if he had put a will in place before he was ripped from his dimension, Rey and the Fyurians got up.

Rey broke off, heading for the waters where the pair of women swam along with the recent addition of Porg, who was fairly in his element there. Gareth and Kyla went toward the spot where Rose had buried Terho up to his neck in sand. Astraea, however, walked her way to exactly where Sonic was lounging. He hoped that she was mistaken or had some kind of depth perception issue, but the closer she came, the more apparent it became that she wanted to talk with him.

“Hello there,” she said, setting herself down beside Sonic.

Sonic greeted her back, suppressing the quivering of his voice.

“How are you enjoying our island?” she asked coyly.

“It’s beautiful, a living paradise straight out of the imagination. It must be wonderful to live here.”

She was grinning widely. Her eyes made Sonic uneasy. “That’s high praise coming from someone like you. And it is wonderful living here, as it is now.”

Sonic was already squinting because of the sunlight, but after he heard Astraea’s response, that squint was further exacerbated. “By ‘person like me’ do you mean like an alien? The blue hair is uncommon, I know. Mangat is always asking about it.”

“No,” Astraea said, her grin growing wider (though oddly it still complimented her facial features). She was drawing him out and she knew it. “I mean someone with that,” she pointed to the crystal on Sonic’s hand.

Sonic didn’t know how to respond, so he deferred to the time-tested strategy of feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,'' he said rather unconvincingly while hastening to cover the Allstar with his other hand.

“So it really is something important. I knew it.”

Sonic was even more confused. “What?” he said with light incredulity.

Astraea rubbed her chin with the palm of her hand as if she were and an old, wizened general on standing on a hill overlooking the field where the battle was turning in her favor. “That… crystal—if that’s what it is—is not from our reality. At least, I don’t think it is. I had a hunch, but you just confirmed it for me.” She laughed. “This is fantastic. To think I’d have a dimensional interloper here with me. I wasn’t even positive they existed until now.”

Sonic sat in dumbfounded silence. “There’s no way you could know that. Unless… Rey told you. Otherwise, you’d have a better chance of being convinced that you’re a banana than of me being a ‘dimensional interloper .’”

Astraea’s eyes widened subtly. “Oh, so she knows as well? That isn’t really surprising; she had an impressive affinity for the Force, not to mention evinces a true shrewdness. How about the rest of this team? Do they know as well, then?”

Sonic shook his head. “There’s no reason for them to, not yet. You still haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

“I sensed it, just as I’m guessing Rey did. That crystal really does exude a strong aura. it’s hard to miss if you’re a Force user specializing in the perceptive aspects, as I am, and as I believe Rey is.”

Sonic rubbed a hand over the hard, smooth surface of the object (perhaps entity, he still wasn’t sure on that point) which was embedded in the other. “I see. What does that mean for you? Or rather, what do you intend to do with that information?”

Astraea’s facial features softened as she caught the worry and sadness invading Sonic’s voice. “Nothing. I was only curious, as any rational person would be to having learned information of that magnitude.” Astraea moved up closer to the deflated blue hedgehog. “What a careworn person you are,” she said with sympathy. “You don’t have to tell me you didn’t come here of your own volition. You are astray, that’s clear from that darkness I see hiding in your eyes. Poor thing. Do you even know the way back?”

Sonic held back from telling her that he did in fact know the path leading to his home, held back from telling her about the starfish. She knew enough as it was; he could keep that last fact between him and Rey. He broke his attention away from the white haired woman for a second, wanting to reground himself to the physical world, and saw Rey wading in the ocean up to where her pants were rolled up on her legs. A beaming smile graced her face as she looked out at Tyr and Nish in their water-clogged clothing. Rose observed Sonic and Astraea at a distance with disconcern. She and Sonic were still not on the best of terms, but she didn’t like the way Astraea seemed to be affecting him. When push came to shove, Rose would always side with a comrade over a bourgeoisie autocrat. Sonic gave her a look that said all was relatively well. She went back to assisting in exhuming Terho from the sand.

“Sonic?” Astraea inquired. “Is everything all right?”

He rubbed his eyes and turned back to her. “Yes, sorry, it’s just I try not to think about that much now.”

“No wonder. It must be very painful for you to recall what you’ve lost. Certain memories are not meant to be dug up. I actually talked to Rey about something similar some minutes ago. We both have a few things we wish to keep unearthed.”

Sonic could guess at what that meant for Rey. He thought of the sand she had described, and was made aware of the contrast she must see being on this tropical paradise. “This is a beautiful planet,” he told Astrea, “I really do mean it.”

“One of the best. But then again, it is my home, so some bias may lie in that statement. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else for an extended time. Certainly nowhere cold; I’m too used to the sun.”

“I’ve always preferred having a solid four seasons,” Sonic offered.

“I know of a planet with nine. One is called the ‘fire months’ though, so probably not all of its seasons are great to experience.”

Sonic laughed. “No, that doesn’t sound appealing. There are a lot of dimensions with singular, dramatic states of weather. In my experience most of them are rainy. This is one of the few ones that I’ve visited where I get to pick and choose planets.”

“You’ve been to many? Dimensions, that is?”

Sonic realized he had slipped up in revealing that, but found it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Astraea had a way with making people say things they know they shouldn’t. Perhaps it was an effect of clean, albino white hair. Or maybe the woman’s short height had a part in it, along with the manner her light robes spread out around her. Regardless, the mistake did not give Sonic pause for long.

He laughed. “Too many. And just like you said, I wouldn’t take any of them over my home, not for an extended period of time. Well, there was one other dimension that wasn’t horrible—had a lot of food in it. And this one has its positives as well, but… Well, you know what I mean. It isn’t the same.”

“No, never. The heart wishes to return where it has lived best, though mostly that just means where those you love reside. In my case, it has meant taking those loved ones to a place we could all be happy. And so here we are, in lands of our ancestors once more. Not the same as before; things have changed, people are… absent. But the sights are more or less the same. It’s those connections to memory I treasure most. Otherwise, as you can see, my family has everything we need.”

Sonic stretched out his body on the sand. “I don’t even get that much. No mementos or familiar sights are to be found here or in any other galaxy. A few places have been reminiscent of my home, but they’re never the genuine article.”

“Are you going to stay here, in this universe?” Astraea more suggested to Sonic than asked him. “Do you have a choice?” she reiterated.

Sonic caved. “I have a few options. And no, I don’t hope to remain here.” Sonic was proud of himself for obscuring the truth to that degree, even if it wasn’t very much of an obfuscation. More like trying to hide behind silk curtains… with your shoes poking out at the bottom. “I’m sticking with Rey and the Rebels until this is over, and with luck it will be soon.”

“Let me just say, with an alliance between our organizations, I believe the future of this galaxy is looking bright. I’ve gotten the sense that your teammates care for you, consider you one of their own. Personally, I wouldn’t give that up.”

“I don’t relish the idea, but I have to move on.”

“Then I commend you for doing all that you have for the Rebels cause, and what I imagine you’ll do to aid our new, collective cause.”

“It’s a pleasure. But really, I’ve been treated exceptionally well, and these are nice people, they deserve as much help as they can get from me. I would prefer if my presence in this dimension comes out as a net positive for those that live in it, cause I would guess I’m in the red for a handful of the other ones I visited. Plus I’m fairly invested as it stands. Might as well see it through.”

Sonic honed into the voices of the Rebels; Mangat was chatting absently to Orin by their new, better-shaded spot; Tyr and Nish had tired of the water and were retreating with Porg back to the shore; Terho had been fully freed from his sandy tomb, and was listening to a mild debate that had arisen between Rose and Gareth. All of them had been through so much in such a short amount of time, given themselves over to the whims of a bloody battlefield god, and come out on top. They’d shared meals, tales, and advice. Not a few times Sonic’s emotional wounds were salved by the words of those comrades.

He’d tell Amy about them when he got home, she’d love to hear about their adventures, as she did all colorful tales. Sonic thought maybe he could even write a memoir about his experiences, but then realized it would end up being ungainly long, and discarded the idea.

Though he may not have become a better person, Sonic did believe he had learned a thing or two from his extensive travels. How odd the winds of fate that blew him to where he currently resided. The future holds enumerable paths, none of them like the ones we envision in our minds. Sometimes this is for the best, but mostly it is not. You can only make peace with where you’ve come to, carefully brush yourself off, and dive right back into the fray. What more suffering awaited Sonic? He could not know. Not that it mattered much; he had fire now, and thus could stay warm through even the longest, coldest of winters.

Two have departed, he thought. And, Kylo, wherever you are, we’re coming for you next. Sonic scrunched up his face. He actually had no idea what Kylo Ren looked like. For all he knew, the man was a lost relative of Porg’s. It seemed unlikely, but Sonic had personally witnessed less probable things happen.

Astraea was quiet as Sonic sunk into these spiraling thoughts. She drew abstract figures in the sand with her fingers, periodically picking her head up when a sound or voice interested her. She appeared content—content with how things had fallen in place with the alliance, as well as with the quality of her recently made allies. And the beach, too, added to the easy-going attitude. Ocean surf crashed softly against the shore, rolling and dragging back to the multitude. The evidence of life was thoroughly present all around—from the coral to copius tropical plants—but at the same time subdued, as the rising and falling of a chest. The Rebels and Fyurians were wrapped up in that natural cycle. Each person had their roles to fill, or to break from. Either way, their actions would alter all that would come after.

Sonic could feel the echoes of this truth as he lay there, looking up at the sky. His actions had rippled throughout more than one dimension, touched countless lives for good or ill. Sonic mused at that notion. It may have been accurate, but it was nonetheless ridiculous to believe. No one hedgehog should all that power; Kanye had been off only a little on the original form of this statement. However, the thing was that Sonic didn’t feel like he possessed much power. He could exercise it certain areas, but for achieving the things he truly desired, power hadn’t served him particularly well. It was only in the most recent months that he learned to leverage these abilities to create rather than destroy, to help instead of cause harm. Guy had tried to teach him that lesson from the very inception of his fire, and it had taken all the long years since then to understand it. Then again, Sonic had never been a particularly fast learner when it came to issues of broader, more fluid intelligence. Amy had once tried to teach him the dark legacy of bushido in Japanese society, and the attempt resulted first in the onset of a severe headache, then in him falling asleep when she went on an extended explanation of the topic.

A seabird landed some feet away from Sonic, and its screech shocked him out of his thoughts. Astraea shooed it away with a few waves of her hands.

“That’s the one problem with this wonderful retreat,” she said, “the birds have wised up to us coming here. I guess it’s my fault, mainly. Gareth kept telling me to stop taking lunch outside. I swear they can smell a stray crumb from all the way across the water.” She got up and shook the sand loose from her robes.

“What do you think?” she asked Sonic. “Is it time we stopped marinating out here?”

He told her he supposed it was. She smiled and went to talk to her siblings, then to Rey. Sonic got himself to his feet with some effort, having gotten into a sedate, relaxed state while talking with Astraea. Tyr, Nish, Porg, and Rey had all more or less dried off by that time. So when Astraea asked they move inside to ‘finish’ the days negotiations, there was little protest. They went back into the house as the sun was beginning to inch its way down to the horizon, turning the light to a more mellow orange.

Inside the conference room the last points were decided on by the collective minds of Orin, Nish, Rey, and Gareth. Astraea was quiet for most of that portion of the night; her job was already done. Rey said that they would send a message to headquarters that night to confirm the agreement, and were expecting a response the following day. Hands were shook, then after being initiated by Astraea, it just turned into various people bear-hugging each other. The Rebels were about ready to say their goodbyes when a member of the estate’s staff walked into the room and whispered something to the lady of the house.

She raised a hand to get the attention of the room. “Wonderful news: our dinner is ready!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaah, the beach. Everyone loves the beach, right? Astraea and her siblings definitely do. What do you think of them now that you've gotten a closer look at how they operate? Do you like them? Hate 'em? Do you wish I'd given Gareth a more detailed description? Well, me too. Luckily I've got a whole load of chapters to rectify that. Comment and give me your thoughts!


	18. Surprisingly Corporeal Ghosts From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The two long-suffering assassins finally meet the end of their journey, and Rey reconnects with a long lost friend.

Gavino wrapped a hand around his rust-speckled sword. “It’s them,” he said to his partner in a voice soft but urgent.

Salara tapped his heavy metal fingers(?) on the glass table, making a satisfying clinking noise. “It’s two of them,” he replied. “I don’t know who the small third one is; they weren’t in our dossier. I like their look, though.”

Gavino scanned the patio in an anxious motion, checking the faces of every patron to make sure there weren’t more Rebels waiting in hiding. “So what do you want to do?”

 

It may be pertinent to explain that Gavino and Salara had, as you have probably inferred by now, finished their short stint in the jail cell on Anaclee. In truth, the two of them were apprehensive to leave the quiet security of their cell to face what they believed to be some unimaginable wrath from their employers. A day after returning to life as free peoples, the duo of assassins, still wary around any suspicious corners that seemed like they could conceal two vicious women, ran across Ji-Yu and Agatha at a local bar—a bar significant in that it hosted a modified version of the Earth pastime known as “karaoke”.

Ji-Yu stopped mid-way through the duet when she spied the ones who had given her the anxiety which needed to be drowned in drunken signing to begin with. She put her microphone down abruptly and leapt off the stage with a growl. Agatha went on for a solid minute without even noticing that her charge was currently being held back by bartender who really didn’t want to have to get the bleach out when she was finished with the cornered pair (he didn’t even have the faintest idea how one could clean droid oil off the floor, but bleach probably wouldn’t do the job).

Agatha was able to calm Ji-Yu down eventually—shouting calming phrases from the stage—and when she did the tension all but melted away from the last remaining Knight of Ren. “It isn’t worth it,” she had said miserably. The bartender cautiously took his arms off Ji-Yu’s shoulders and she stumbled into a nearby seat, evicting its previous occupant with a shove.

“None of it is worth it,” she went on, her head buried in her hands.

Agatha bounded down from the stage and over to her friend. “Oh, it’s only a setback you know,” she drunkenly cooed to Ji-Yu while she rubbed her back, taking pleasure with the way each nub of bone felt against her palm. Say what you will about having your inhibitions removed, if it's the right kind of person, a little drink here and there can have beneficial outcomes. Agatha turned and asked the bartender if he could get them a couple more Lord Sidious Shots, asked him very kindly with a few extra credits to sweeten the deal. She didn’t have to ask for the seat across from Ji-Yu to make itself empty; that message was clearly delivered with a short glace in the occupant’s direction.

“This isn’t even your fault,” Agatha told her friend. “If anything, I’m to blame for going through with hiring those numbskulls.”

“That isn’t it,” Ji-Yu said, her voice muffled as it tried to escape from the pillow she made from her arms that she was sullenly resting her head in. “I shouldn’t be here in the first place. But because I can’t beat her I am. Now… now I don’t even know what I want.”

Gavino shared a knowing look with his partner, but neither of them dared to try and get up yet.

Agatha groaned softly and exhaled a long, heavy breath, the calming effect of which was lessened by the hiccup that followed it. “You haven’t beat her yet, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. And what do you mean you don’t know what you want? We kick ass, that’s all we do and it’s all we need to do. Life’s a battle, we’re just a little more honest about that; take it more literally you could say.”

The bartender came with their shots, internally questioning if what he was doing was truly the right course of action to ensure the safety of his customers, the credits in his pocket making a decent counter-argument. Agatha waited for Ji-Yu to take her head out of where it was nestled before putting a hand around her own glass. The two winced as the liquid passed down their gullets and began to work its potent magic. After a few minutes of the alcohol sitting in her stomach, Ji-Yu’s head didn’t just swim, it donned full scuba gear and was plumbing ancient shipwrecks for treasure.

Gavino, who had now been given enough time to muster some fragment of courage, asked in a weak tone, “so do you think we can leave now?”

Agatha snarled at them but swiftly returned her attention to Ji-Yu.

Gavino shrunk back into the corner. “Alright, then. Gotcha.”

Ji-Yu’s vision was blurry, her mouth had turned dry and her skin was warming at an alarming rate. What a rotten state she was in. Why was she taking up this battle against the Rebellion? Was it for Kylo? For faith in the First Order? For a comradery with Agatha and the other stormtroopers like her? A little bit of everything, she guessed. But most of all... most of all she took up her blades because that was what felt natural to her.

Agatha was right, they were warriors at heart, they lived to exert their power in a bloody conflict. People like them were only good for fighting—children of Ares who needed to sink their teeth into another’s flesh to establish their dominance and stave off any boredom. The Rebels weren’t like that, heck the top brass of the First Order wasn’t like that. And the two snivelling assassins currently in the corner certainly weren’t either; they all had some reason for fighting outside of the jubilance itself—that was why they were weak. Yet one of those weaklings had thrown her to the floor in defeat. It was unforgivable… mostly unforgivable.

An ephemeral cloud of a thought came into Ji-Yu’s head then: What if that wasn’t all there was to life? Surely there was more that two competent people such as Agatha and herself could be doing with the ample time they had remaining? Perhaps a cozy bed and breakfast?

The thought dissipated just as quickly as it appeared, sucked up by the blue sky that the alcohol had turned her mental landscape into. This wasn’t something she should be worrying about. She had a mission and was going to carry it out, because that’s what she did. More battles awaited after that, and maybe some things other than battles, things with seaside views and friendly guests who put a smile on Agatha’s face. She shook the daydream away. No, not yet. She would not entertain those thoughts until the present conundrum was addressed.

Agatha closely watched the changes rippling over her friend’s face, and it wasn’t just the drink that was causing the facial contortions; she was thinking as well. Usually Ji-Yu was sneering or stoic when she thought, but Agatha could recognize what she was doing then as the same pensivity by the aura she exuded, a very familiar aura. So Agatha kept quiet as this thinking reached its conclusion.

Ji-Yu took in a good lungful of the stuffy bar-room air and then her eyes locked onto those of Gavino and Salara. “You two,” she said with a menace not really fitting the colorful environment, “this job isn’t done yet.”

Gavino began to protest, but Salara clapped a metal hand over his partner’s mouth before a single syllable could be formed.

“Now, instead of working for pay, you work to secure your lives. Bring me one of their heads or I will take both of yours as recompense,” Ji-Yu said, quickly adding, “or one head and a neural net or something.” She wanted to bring her anger down onto the Rebels as soon as possible, but the last logical part of her mind unhindered by the Sidious Shot told her that to do so without having made any discoveries on their abilities would be folly. So she would leverage the resources most readily available to her, and among those happened to be the lives of Salara and Gavino, lives she firmly believed now belonged to her.

Gavino strained against Salara’s grip, trying to get a word out and tell his employer that he was through with this insane assignment. To his great fortune Salara went unfazed by these efforts. Ji-Yu got up from the chair and slowly made her way to the corner, then leaning down to get closer to eye level.

“We’re going to find your targets again,” she said, the sharp smell of alcohol coming out with her breath, “and when we do, you’re coming with us to take them out. Is that understood?”

A strangled, muffled sound came out from under Salara’s hand. He nodded vigorously, the metal of his joints clunking as he did so. Ji-Yu rose to her full height, and despite that being more on the average side, she appeared to the prone assassins a mountain. She was to them the kind of mountain that you discover is a volcano only when it’s too late. And as the fire spews forth, your sole recompense is to try to come up with the best pose you can, in the hope that it’ll be a Pompeii sort of situation.

“Good,” she said with a sweetness equally as convincing as her menace. “Pack your bags in that case. We’ll leave in the morning.” Agatha gave Ji-Yu a stern look and then motioned with her eyes to the empty shot glasses.

“Scratch that, we’ll leave sometime in the afternoon… late afternoon.” After that Ji-Yu strode off to the door and out into the now dark streets of Anaclee. Agatha went after her once she settled their bill, pausing to give a few stern words to the pair of assassins. Her words regarded what it would be like for them if they didn’t show up the following day: unpleasant to say the least, unimaginably horrible to say the most.

Gavino and Salara were left in a state of semi-shock when both their tormentors had made egress, the latter’s hand still clamped tightly over the mouth of the former. It stayed that way for a solid minute before Salara’s circuits returned to functioning as normal. The few other patrons in the bar eyed them with a little notable sympathy, though mainly with the general disregard which pervades places like that (threats and compliments alike are thrown with ease at karaoke bars across the multiverse).

Soon a new singer took up the stage—a fairly decent one at that—and the bar was again filled with the dulcet sound of am Anacleean ballad, that particular one with a healthy amount of bone-harp forming the base of the melody.

“Did they even say where the meet-up is?” asked Salara.

His question was left unanswered for two whole choruses before Gavino stated, “we’re screwed.”

But of course they were not screwed, for Gavino and Salara did eventually find their employers/potential-kidnappers after spending the better part of the morning asking around in a frenzy. And so it was that the two later found themselves on Fyur, nervously watching a party of three people talking during the intermission of a bond-surfing competition.

In all frankness, they hadn’t expected to see any of their targets at surfing the competition; their leads all insinuated that the Rebels were holed up somewhere in the estate of the commonwealth's main noble family, a well fortified property that was not only swarming with guards, but also served as the residency of the planet’s chief security officer. So faced with such an imposing prospect, Gavino and Salara started their operation by scanning out the areas bordering the estate, one of which just happened to be the village where there at least two Rebels had abruptly appeared, Rebels they were specifically charged to kill.

“Should we go on the offensive right here?” pressed Gavino. “We’d be seen, but the crowd should allow us to escape before any authority can get to this little village.”

Salara continued to rap his digits on the glass table. “No, we should wait. When they leave we can follow them to whatever building they’re shacking up at the moment. Those rumors we’ve heard about them living at the estate could just be rumors, and this might be a good chance to get intel.”

“Intel?!” Gavino hissed, nearly breaking out of his frantic whisper. “This isn’t some clean, white-collar job we’re doing for respectable employers! Those psychopaths are going to kill us if we don’t kill one of the Rebels. Actually, I bet you they’ll torture us before they kill us, force you to eat my severed feet and stuff like that. I say we get it done with now and then run as far away from them as possible as quickly as possible.”

“How could I eat you if I don’t have a mouth?” Salara asked lamely. “Also, that’s nasty.” He gave the three Rebels another scan from his visual processors, and didn’t much like the results. The most humanoid of them was concealing a baffling number of weapons in the odd pouch around her waist, and the other two gave out curious readings concerning leg muscle mass and cognitive functioning, respectively.

“A fight here at this bar wouldn’t end up well for us,” Salara said. “They have the advantage in open areas since we don’t have any good ranged weapons. No, I say we wait. Plus, we might actually receive some reward if we kill Rey; right now we’re fighting for a chance to come out of this alive. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer something more liquid as compensation for all our time and effort. However, If we make our move right here, right now, we may not get a chance at Rey—because, remember, we only get the element of surprise once. They’ll leave after our presence has been made known”

“Fine,” Gavino said, crossing his arms, “we wait. But don’t let them get out of your sight.” He fiddled with the handle of his sword and added, “this is the crappiest job we’ve ever had to do.”

“Mmm,” Salara assented. “But at least the scenery’s pretty.”

Gavin gave a dry laugh then. “Yeah, other than the constant blazing light in this village it’s not unlike the last planet we were at ,where natural beauty is concerned. The Rebels sure do have good taste in planets, I’ll give them that. I Guess I can pretend we’re just on a trip.”

Salara deeply wished that could be true, but it wasn’t, so they continued their watch. When the intermission ended they followed Sonic, Tyr, and Porg back to the beach where the surfers began the final round of their competition. A huge wave tore into one of the teams and the other was taken out of the running as the ‘board’ had made the mistake of eating a bag of dried fruit during the break, an action which promptly gave him a stomach cramp when they went in the water—another casualty of not following the thirty minute rule.

A local team was eventually declared the winner, and the competition finished. Spectators broke away one by one, among them the three Rebels, who had watched the events with more curiosity than excitement. Gavino and Salara, in contrast, had barely looked away once the whole time, though they were not really paying much attention to the surfers. The duo kept close on their targets’ tail as they left the village and returned to the gravel path leading back to Astraea’s home.

Because of how massive Salara’s steel frame was, they had to keep a significant distance away, lest they alert the Rebels to their presence… plus the natural acoustic qualities of metal grinding over gravel weren’t particularly great for stealth. Salara rectified the tactical difficulty arising from his body with a solution from the same: his ocular processors (they both simply called these “eyes”), which could easily outrange those of your average bird of prey. Gavino clenched and unclenched his fists, unable to clearly see what the group ahead of them was doing, relying on his partner to alert him should anything go awry. It was an especially important job when no margin for error existed, as with their present situation.

Up in the distance, Tyr felt a prickling on the back of her neck. The fine hairs there suddenly turned sharp on her skin, but not because of the sun’s heat on them (Tyr tended to tan rather than burn, anyway). It was a sensation she had experienced before, and therefore was confused by its appearance at that moment. She stopped in the path. So did Sonic and Porg when they realized she wasn’t with them.

Something wrong? asked Porg, who was now being carried in the arms by Sonic.

Tyr stood in the middle of the path, her eyes closed in intense concentration. Beneath the lids he could see no movement. Tyr was as still as a statue or pillar of salt. Porg looked up at Sonic with worry, and Sonic returned his gaze.

“Tyr…” Sonic started.

Tyr held up a finger to tell him to be quiet. She sniffed the air for effect, then slowly opened her eyes, the pupils dilating to light as it filtered in.

“I think I left my sunglasses back at the cafe,” she said in a rather pedestrian manner.

That’s all? You didn’t feel the death of a planet? Cause to me, that’s what it looked like was happening.

“Yeah, I agree,” interjected Sonic, “not with the last part—but you looked really off just now, not how I’ve ever seen you act. If you’re not feeling well you should tell us. We already know your tough, so there’s no need to put up an act or anything.”

“I know that,” Tyr said with a heavy blink. “Your concern is appreciated, but there’s no problem with me except that I think those sunglasses are pretty rad and I’m bummed that I left them behind.”

Sonic didn’t totally buy the explanation, nor did Porg, yet Tyr didn’t seem to be nervous, so they both separately decided not to push the issue. After all, who were they to challenge the will of an empress? “You’re sure everything’s okay?” Sonic asked one last time.

Tyr giggled, an emotive expression which is hard to execute well with a register as low as hers. “Look at you both getting so serious. I haven’t come down with space plague or anything. It’s not serious. I must be royalty with how you’re acting like my retainers.” She laughed again, a detailed picture coming into her mind of her sitting on a throne constructed with bones, a blighted landscape around her, and her anthropomorphic friends kneeling on a marble floor emblazoned with her crest. It should be noted that Tyr possessed a slightly warped sense of humor. “Don’t get the order of succession together just yet,” she continued.

Sonic frowned, but again yielded to Tyr’s judgement. His justification: When it comes down to it, no one knows themselves better than they do. “I could run back and get them,” Sonic added, “If you’re sunglasses are still on the table, I think I’d be able to find them quickly. It’d only take me a few seconds.”

“No,” Tyr contested, “I left them, so I should be the one to get them back.”

Do you want us to wait here until you get back? Porg asked, surprisingly not in a snide manner either, which was an unusual way for him to treat people other than Rey.

Tyr shook her head, the recently reinstated mohawk swaying from side to side as she did so. “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up to you, probably before you even get through the door.” With that sadi, she turned around and started the path facing the other way, the path which lead to the village. She put her hands in her pockets and began whistling a little tune.

Sonic and Porg watched her go, an undefinable unease welling in their chests, then Sonic turned the opposite direction and resumed the walk to their temporary housing. In the crook of Sonic’s arms, Porg spread himself out like he was in a fleshy hammock. Strange. He said in Sonic’s mind. Though, I’m positive she’ll be able to handle herself.

“I certainly hope so.”

But Tyr had lied. There was something wrong; they were being followed. It took her a second to recognize what it was she was sensing, but once she had it the rest of her faculties honed in on the threat. It wasn’t force power that alerted Tyr, nor was some arachnid, spidey-sense either. All humanoids actually have a low level psychic ability that allows them to know when they’re being observed. Soome claim this ability is truthfully a functioning of our peripheral vision and nothing more. However, I'm here to tell you that is not the case. And with Tyr, her low level psychic ability had through experience evolved into something more than ‘low level’. Whoever was tailing her, they were about to get a nasty surprise.

A low, grating groan escaped Salara’s speaker.

“What is it?” asked Gavino.

“She’s coming towards us,” Salara declared with a morbid tinge.

“Who? The woman with all those weapons?”

“Yes. And of course it’s her. Couldn’t have been the small, cute one, I suppose, since we’re roaming catalysts of Murphy’s Law now.”

Gavino rubbed his stubble and started pacing in a tight circle. “Just her? The other two aren’t flanking us.”

“Not that I can tell.”

Gavino snorted dryly and stopped his pacing. “Are you sure she’s figured out we’re here, then? And can’t we hide even if she does figure it out?”

Salara surveyed the elegant bushes and flowers that grew on either side of the path. “Oh sure, you can hide. There’s plenty of cover for someone of your stature. However, I don’t think I’ll have much luck in that department.”

Gavino suddenly felt fairly silly. “Sorry, I should have considered your position as well. I know it’s not an excuse, but I think you can imagine the stress I’m under. Still, it’s something I’m working on.”

Salara made no comment. Most droids don’t have facial expressions—a terrible failure on the part of their designers whose claimed intent was to make them feel like flesh and blood people—but if you hang around one for long enough, you’ll start to get a sense of how they’re feeling by the ambient noise emitted by their hardwire. Salara’s hardwire was making a sound not unlike that produced by the grinding of teeth. Hearing that obvious noise of frustration, Gavino took it that he should try a different tactic and offer something helpful for once. “How about any buildings? Is there one close enough to here?”

Salara made another check with his scanners, this time looking beyond the direct foliage and at the areas in the vicinity that they could walk to before Tyr reached them. “You are forgiven for your earlier comments,” Salara told his partner.

“Does that mean you found one?”

“There’s a storehouse almost directly to the right of us. Miraculously the abode that it’s attached to is empty right now.”

“Presto. See, Salara, ask and you shall receive. The grace of the Force has yet to totally abandon us.”

Salara disregarded this comment, picked up Gavino in a few of his many arms, and made a comparatively slow break for the aforementioned storehouse, taking great care not to trample enough plants to leave a visible trail in his wake. He leaned down low to avoid hitting any branches, and had to stop to allow a family of squirrels who were playing to get out of the way, but Salara and Gavino arrived at the hiding place within the calculated range of time.

Salara set down his partner, then they both huddled into the tall storehouse. The pair sidled up along with the jars of jam and pickled vegetables that lined the shelves which were built into the storehouse walls. Salara puzzled at why someone would make so many non-perishable goods when they lived on a planet that was, for all intents and purposes, always in its flowering season. Maybe they just liked the taste of fermented products, though.

“We won’t have to worry about starving here while we wait,” Gavino said in a wan attempt to add some humor. Salara shushed him despite the fact they were far enough away that the sound wouldn’t carry back to where Tyr was. In Salara’s experience, it paid to be paranoid. So the shed was left to be filled with only the voice of the surrounding forest.

“How long are we going to have to wait here?” asked Gavino.

“Look, I’ve already told you once to be quie—” Salara was cut off by a creaking from the shed’s only door. In situations like the one Salara and Gavino found themselves, it is expected that things will happen slowly, that time will still and you will have to marinate in the anticipation of your oncoming doom— maybe even get a couple good flashbacks in. Gavino and Salara were spared a look back at their mediocre lives at least, because the door was flung open just a picosecond after the noise registered with the pair of assassins. A form stood in the space where the slab of wood once stood, its finer features lost in the shadows cast by the sun shining directly behind their back. But the two poor souls knew who it was, if only by instinct—as well as the pouch hanging at the front of their waist.

Gavino wasted no time unsheathing his weapon and charging at Tyr. She dodged to the side in order to avoid the first swing, then delivered a gut-punch hard enough to send him staggering back into Salara.

“No introductions?” she asked as she stepped out of the mini-corona and into the Shed’s gloom, where they could see her.

Gavino, undeterred, regained his breath and stood back up with his sword held out vertically in front of him. Letting her leave would mean death for both of them, and he wasn’t willing to go to the great beyond just yet.

Tyr glowered at him. “A sword fight? And it doesn't look like you’re a Force user either. Not the wisest move, but I must say I respect it.” She reached behind her back and pulled out a long thin shape. “Since you’re so fearless I’ll be pulling all the stops, if that’s alright?” The sword in her hands suddenly came alive with bright red at the edges. “Not as pretty as the classic you’re wielding, I know, but I got it off a strong enemy, so it has some sentimental value to me.”

She spun the blade in a motion that, because of its previous owner, the sword looked very comfortable doing—a much practiced skill that had gone dormant for a short time, and was already too long for its liking. Were it sentient, Isuel’s sword would have let out a satisfied sigh.

“What do you think?” Tyr asked, her weapon burning in her hands.

Gavino attempted to swallow with his dry mouth. Things were getting worse by the minute—exponentially so. He didn’t want to fight Tyr, it would be dumb to try to. But he didn’t have any other options. If he didn’t do something, he would either be killed or she would leave and they would be run off the planet into the cruel arms of the First Order women. “Okay,” he told himself, “it’s okay, you’ve got this… Even if you don’t, well, you haven’t got another choice” And with a strangled cry, Gavino charged.

Tyr looked on with mild surprise. She was hoping her new weapon would add some greater factor of intimidation to her already sufficient arsenal. So seeing the patently unskilled ‘assassin’ come at her with such fury gave Tyr some modicum of disappointment, having thought her opponent would give up on the spot. These are the things that occupied her mind as she dodged the first swing, turning effortlessly to the side, following the maneuver up by taking the reinforced edge of her weapon to the middle of Gavino’s vintage sword, slicing it in two. The top half clattered onto the stone floor. Tyr made a another spinning flourish with the sword and brought it centimeters away from her opponent’s adam’s apple. “Looks like sentiment beats being pretty.”

After a heart-pounding few seconds, Tyr pulled the edge away. The immediate threat gone, Gavino collapsed to his knees. He looked at the split katana, the one that had served as his sole weapon for an entire decade, and wanted to cry. The thought of what Ji-Yu was going to do to them now popped into his head, and salty beads started forming at either side of his eyes. Not wanting to have to deal with any pleading, as well as in a magnanimous mood, Tyr then bopped him over the head with the handle of her stolen sword. Gavino was knocked unconscious, so Tyr turned her attention to the patchwork droid.

Salara braced himself for Tyr’s attack, galvanizing all his hardware to fight back with everything it had. But she merely stood there, watching him.

“I’m going to ask you a question,” she said. “And I’m optimistic you’ll understand why not to give me a misleading answer.”

“Of course,” he responded.

Tyr put the sword behind her back again. “Perfect. Then let’s get on with it: who hired you to follow us, and for what purpose?” She wagged a finger at Salara. “Note: ‘to kill you,’ is not a sufficient answer for the second part of my question.”

Salara hastily recounted to Tyr the trials he and his partner had faced of late, from their initial hiring to their failed first attempt, then finally to their current bind. He even enjoyed the process of telling her the details, the whole situation being something he had wanted to get off his chest for a long time. Tyr listened to the story, nodding along and using Gavino’s prone body as a cushion to sit on.

“I’ve heard of Ji-Yu,” Tyr told Salara when his tale was completed. “I can understand your concerns. But let me say this, you had no chance of taking out Rey. Even your ‘employer’ was unable to deliver a finishing blow to her.”

Tyr rubbed her face then, “though she might have if they were going one-on-one. Anyway, the point I’m making is that Ji-Yu knew you two wouldn’t be able to come out alive. I assume you were being used as a means of scoping out our weaknesses, of testing out Rey’s resolve from a distance. Now that your original purpose has failed, you’ve become bodies to be thrown at the problem by Ji-Yu.” She paused, then added, “the problem here is Rey and the rest of my friends.” 

Tyr adjusted herself on Gavino, who she was currently using as a seat. He groaned, beginning to wake up. “Listen, I used to work in the private sector, so I can sympathize with you two. Plus—and with offense intended—I don't believe you pose any actual threat to us. Therefore, I’ve benefiantly decided to let you off the hook. I won’t help you escape Ji-Yu, but I also won’t kill you right here and now. How does that sound?”

Salara made an attempt to bow with his rigid frame. “Most gracious. We hardly deserve such mercy.”

“I’m gonna take some of these pickled goods as well,” Tyr said, looking apathetically at her fingernails.

“They’re not ours...” Salara stuttered electronically.

“Really?’ She frowned. “In that case, only a couple.” Tyr moved off from Gavino, who was gradually coming to his senses, and took two jars from off the shelf, opening one to pull out a single vegetable.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she said with the plant matter crunching in her mouth, “do either of you happen to have a pair of sunglasses?”

Rey let a deep breath of relief. The communication had come in and General Organa approved every point. Rey wished she could talk more directly to her mentor, in real time, but they were too far away, so she had to make do with the brief authorization. Despite endorsing the Fyurian alliance in her report to HQ, Rey was still somewhat uneasy with the circumstances of their meeting, and suspicious of Astraea especially.

Nish was snoring peacefully on the couch when Rey left, having hung around with her for the first handful of hours while she waited for the communication. The cars from the previous night remained near the entrance, but as the sun was only just beginning its descent, Rey opted instead to walk her way to the main palace, as her friends had done for their respective outings. They were about the city now, having fun, and she was plodding along, acting in the role of a courier. Not that it was unpleasant to do so—the weather was of course spectacular—but Rey was feeling kinda isolated nonetheless. She mused that it might have been a good idea to rouse Nish so she could have brought the slight woman along.

Soft wind blew around her body, and Rey realized it was unhealthy to burden herself with such groundless anxieties; a decision had been made, one that she intended to stick by. All that was required of her was to relay her superior’s message. That done, she could leave and get back to their temporary residence in no time (relatively speaking; the walk was decently long). Astraea may try to cojoule her into some other conversation or activity, but Rey swore to herself she would shrug those attempts off with as much politeness as was expected. No curious impulse would take her down the wild passages that could no doubt be found in the sprawling manor, either. With her resolution behind her, Rey walked a little more confidently .

That’s right, she thought, I can leave whenever I like. There’s no obligation for me to remain with them… with Astraea. Urgh, so many conflicting emotions. If I had actual training, I wouldn’t have to worry about these sorts of things. I’m sure the actual Jedi had entire courses on controlling your thoughts. Currently I’m just flailing around with whatever I can think up. Master Luke didn’t leave me with much better than basic philosophy. No one told me what to do about woman with pure-white hair and broad smiles, much less tall dudes who want to take over all the known galaxies.

Rey reached this mild line of grousing thoughts simultaneously as the noble’s palace came into reprieve, along with the premises’ other associated buildings. A stubbled guard waved her in at the main gate, and she wove her way to siblings’ house, where the guard verified she would find them resting.

Rey had started to sweat by the time she made it to the large wooden doors of the mansion, somewhere behind which Astraea was waiting for her. This turned out to be a fairly accurate prediction, as Astraea herself opened the doors to Rey when she knocked, then excitedly leading her to one of the many ‘living rooms’ strewn about the house.

“Come,” Astraea said, taking Rey by the hand, “and then we can get into the details. Oh, this is so thrilling.”

A series of velvety couches and sofas filled the living room. A large, low coffee table that was covered in loose paper and books sat in the middle, lances of light from a singular window illuminating it like some holy artifact. The room was not empty, either, on a woman Rey didn’t immediately recognize was resting with her legs crossed on one of the central couches. She had short, scruffy hair dyed blue and a light coat on over a sleeveless tank-top. Astraea plopped down next to her.

Rey made no indication of following her, so Astraea quickly added, “ah, sorry, this is our security department’s secondary head… I believe I mentioned her to you yesterday. Anyway, Kyla is out doing something else right now, but she insisted that someone accompany me to our ‘meeting’.”

“And so here I am,” the woman offered, her voice thick and low like the sound of blood flowing through your veins.

Rey stared at this new presence, a tinge of something in her mind nagging at her to look more closely at the woman, at her eyes and thin lips. These features were… familiar somehow. Aspects of the woman’s face, and especially her voice, evoked a nostalgia from Rey—though why she hadn't the faintest idea; until, suddenly, she did. The understanding rose in Rey like a tell-tale piece of clothing from a missing person might rise to the surface of a muddy pond. The voice and the eyes, she could place them, could tell how they had changed since she saw them last.

“Iris,” she said, and it came out louder than she expected it to, rebounding off the flat surfaces of the room, back to her own ears.

A smile alighted on the woman’s face, sharp at the edges. “It is you, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe, I bet you thought I forgot all about Iris, didn't you? Thought I put that little piece of foreshadowing so many chapters ago and then didn't remember to do anything with it, huh. Well guess wha-- Oh, you don't actually remember who Iris is. I suppose that's my fault; chapter 4 does happen to be the last time she was mentioned. Chapter 4 was a very long time ago indeed. Anyway, if you really don't remember, the next chapter will fill you in on the details, so there's no need to worry. See you then!


	19. Colored Pigment or a Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey does a little sister-sister bonding with Iris. Desserts are eaten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there y'all. I know it's been a long, long time since I last uploaded, and I'm sorry about that. I'm pretty busy right now, so the upload schedule will be out of wack for... awhile. But I don't intend to stop writing, so I'll see you when the next chapter is done!

“Wait,” Rey stuttered. “Hold on, this is a whole lot for me to take in.”

Astraea watched the Jedi as she slumped into a nearby sofa, concerned she was under an affliction of some kind. “Is something wrong?” Astraea asked, turning to Iris halfway through the question.

Iris shook her head. “Not at all. Quite the opposite, really. Rey and I were, erm, childhood friends… you could even call us siblings. I suppose that’s what we considered ourselves to be back then.”

Rey’s felt like the muscles in her jaw had weakened, leaving her mouth slightly agape as if she were about to say something. No coherent thoughts formed in her mind, now thrown into chaos by Iris’ unexpected appearance. Rey was flooded with old memories; they churned and curdled in the face of their subject, who had grown and changed so much. Emotions, too, burbled, combined, then separated again, making Rey feel as if she’d become a vessel for their transformation, a veritable cooking pot full of psychic unrest. It was frightening, and terribly visceral. Right then, it seemed no battle had ever shaken as much as her sudden reunion with Iris did.

A lofty ideal, a once intimately loved family member, and a source of an intense, tumultuous pain was casually relaxing on a fancy couch mere feet away. The sheer physical presence astounded Rey. She could go up and touch Iris if she liked, touch the person who for so many years was considered by the burgeoning Jedi to be a lost sister. Iris was finally back, and amazingly not overcome in the same way she was.

Rey never thought Iris would appear in her life again, and as a result she was woefully unprepared now that her sister actually had returned. Not to mention the context felt all wrong. This was a simple meeting for her—or was supposed to be—but it had rapidly become an emotional crisis. At last, observing the shaking in Rey’s legs, Astrea clued into how much duress her guest was under, and gingerly helped her down into an adjacent seat. She scrutinized the Jedi, watched ripples of fear and joy come across her face, saw the dazed look in her dark eyes.

Astraea leaned over to Iris. “You never told me that Rey was an acquaintance of yours,” she whispered.

“I knew her as a child, my lady. I didn’t connect the dots when you said a Jedi by the name of Rey was coming. I assumed it was someone else. I mean, there’s more than one person on this planet with the name Rey. Frankly, my sister never struck me as the mythic type when we were children. It’s not like she talked to animals or anything. How was I supposed to know she’d grow up so… heartily?”

“Still, you could have given me warning that the possibility existed,” Astraea went on, not really needing to whisper, as Rey was mentally too far off to hear their words, but doing it out of courtesy anyway.

She sucked in a short breathe through her teeth. “I keep insisting to Kyla that I can handle my affairs without a guard,” Astraea went on, talking more to herself now, “but she never fails to get me to crack. Of course, this is what happens when I give in and bring you along. It’s almost comical.”

Iris shifted in a lackadaisical fashion on the cushion. “Wasn’t my choice to be on guard duty, either. Though I can’t complain about the company.”

“It isn’t like that, Iris. I only don’t want there to be complications with sensitive matters such as this. Any other day I’d be happy to spend time chatting with you or going on a walk.” Astraea bit her lip and took another glance at Rey, over whom a thicker cloud of confusion was building.

“Rey,” she addressed the Rebel warrior, “we can finish this later if you’d like. For now I think it’d be best to leave you two alone together. Do you agree?”

“Huh?” Rey said, lifting her head up. “Oh. Yeah… I mean, please.”

Astraea smoothed out her robes and went to the doorway, stealing a final glance at the pair before exiting. She was mildly frustrated that the appointment had needed to be put on hold, but there was no helping it. This was a sensitive issue for her new ally, that much was plainly obvious. Astraea only wished that Iris had revealed more about her past when they hired her. If she had, Astraea might have been able to connect the details with what Rey had told her the previous day about Jakku. Oh well, what’s done is done

The tapping sound of bare feet sunk away, and Rey felt their privacy first like a cold blast of wind. Soon she was reminded of the many evenings spent taking vigil over the graves of other children… well, former children—they were just bodies, then. The desert nights were always cold, and she had often been alone, especially toward the end. None of this was Iris’ fault, not directly, but Rey couldn’t extricate those darker memories from those of her. What a morbid turn for the day to take, and within a lovely beach house no less. You spend so many years meticulously repressing something just to have a sister blow the dam apart? It hardly seemed fair.

“You’ve matured,” Iris said, maybe to break the tension, maybe just to say something, anything. “You’re not the sweet little girl I remember, now you’re a sweet woman… of average height.”

Rey didn’t react to the attempted joke, it fell dull on her ears. “I could say the same about you,” Rey managed to say, “that you’ve changed. You even cut your hair short. And I like the blue dye, by the way.”

Iris smiled. “Yeah? I think it suits me better; somewhat more practical, too. And for the record, I think the bun is a good look on you. Not many can pull that off. I’m impressed.”

That got a low chuckle from Rey. She reeled herself back in once it had passed, however. The bubbling emotions exerted a pressure on her, demanded to be released. “Iris I… I’ve missed you. And I don’t mean that as simple sentiment, I really thought you were lost to me.”

A flash of guilt shone in Iris’ eyes, the ones in which an old sparkle had progressed to their fully crystallized form. Yet she made no comment to Rey’s confession. She only squirmed a bit and turned to face the large window in the side wall.

“I hoped you were going to say you missed me as well.”

“I did,” Iris said without turning back to Rey, “I do.”

“But I’m here now. What happened before, I understand why now. I forgive you. There’s no need for us to stay at a distance from one another any longer.”

“Gaps like that can’t be closed so easily, Rey, even if we both wish they would.” Iris ran her fingers through her hair, the thin blue strands parting to her flesh. “I made this choice, and I’m sorry I did, but let’s not act like we’re victims of fate. I did something crappy and there are consequences to that. So don’t say you’ve forgiven me so readily, ‘cause I don’t deserve it.”

“Iris, please, it doesn’t have to be like this. In fact, I really don’t want it to be. Can’t we just talk, talk like we used to? A connection like ours isn’t washed away by a mistake, even a big mistake—and time won’t wound it, either. Whatever you say, I still consider you my sister.”

Iris sucked in Rey’s words, letting them roll around in her ears until each last syllable had collapsed under entropy. Her eyes were cast down on the carpet, tracing the subtle patterns that had been worked into it. She was roused by a ragged breathing coming from in front of her; Rey was nearly successful in restraining herself from sobbing, shining pearls of tears building near her nose. Iris stood up from the couch and carefully walked over to Rey, eventually settling herself next to her sibling and wrapping an arm around her. Rey made no attempt to move away.

“It’s better if you let it out,” she told her in a soothing tone. “Like a sneeze, you might damage something if you try to keep it in too long.” And Rey did, allowing the salty liquid to run over her cheeks, then down to her chin and drip into the pliable carpet, leaving dark spots in their wake. “Remember this?” Iris asked as she ran her hand over Rey’s back. “I used to do this all the time back on Jakku, usually when we lost someone. For the situation I suppose you didn’t cry too much. Not more than I did in private, at least. You always enjoyed me rubbing your back, though.”

“You have pleasantly firm hands,” Rey offered as explanation, her words clear even as the tears continued to flow.

“Is that what it is?” Iris laughed, then remembered herself and resumed a suitably somber demeanor. “Well, I like doing it too. However I’ve been out of practice as of late, so I can’t guarantee the knots will come out as well.”

Rey eased her muscles and curled further into Iris. “You haven’t lost the touch yet.”

Iris sagely decided not to point out the pun, though she very much wanted to. “Look at us, grown women in a huge mansion getting down to our old habits; guess they really do die hard.”

“I wouldn’t have imagined myself here as a child,” Rey said, the tears subsiding and with her eyes closed, “not in my wildest dreams.”

“Exactly, dreams are just fantasy. If you’d had a dream about this, then would’ve known this was impossible”

“That’s a skewed line logic if I’ve ever heard one.”

Iris stopped her light massage, eliciting a whimper from Rey, and moved to stare in her sisters bleary eyes. “It’s true, though. We’re the survivors, and deserve everything we’ve been given—what we’ve earned.”

The glimmer had returned to Iris’ eyes, a bold ambition sparkling inside the woman, shining through to the outside world. Rey was drawn into her pupils, the magnetic power taking over her, and serving as a reminder of why Iris had left in the first place. She turned away. “I think you’re probably right, but sometimes I feel guilty for everything I can enjoy now. Horrible as the First Order might be, they are a physical presence, I can fight them; whatever it was on Krait, whatever that situation, that emotion was, no one can fight that.”

“I did,” Iris said with controlled firmness. “You did too, ultimately.”

“Yes, ultimately, but I stayed too long. The consequences of a childhood like that will stay as well, stay with me for perhaps the rest of my life. There I times I find myself pulled back to the past without warning. Parts of it will always affect how I live.”

“But it doesn’t have to, Rey. Your old self should not dictate the person you are now. We’re beyond that, it’s a distant memory—one that, as far as we know, is only shared by us two. It is time to let those memories rest with their siblings in the sand, where they belong. Lay them down, unburden yourself.” Iris’ face was close to Rey’s, the slight warmth of her breath tickling the Rebel’s skin with each word. And they pulsed, those words, methodically, rhythmically—the steady heartbeat again, the low susurrus of flowing blood. The room, which by every right should have been warm, gained a chill when Iris talked; whether it was psychosomatic, the A/C kicking in, or the result of Iris’ will itself, Rey did not know.

“Would you want to be buried there?” the sister asked her elder suddenly. “When you do die, what would you think of having your remains returned to Jakku and put beside the others?”

Iris pulled back, not with shock warping her face, but softened in recognition of a thought that had never occurred to her. “Not buried there, no, but I want to return once before I pass, pay my final respects. I don’t have plans to die anytime soon to begin with, though.”

“But you must have some idea?

Iris got up and went to look out at the beach through the window. Rey wondered if she had actually mistaken the tide for the sound of blood, but the noise only came when Iris spoke, and she heard it once more when the older woman opened her mouth.   
“Cremation would be best for me,” Iris said. “And I think I’d like my ashes scattered in some corner of space, left to spread out in any direction I pleased. That way I’ll know, despite whatever comes after, that my journey hasn’t fully ended.” She moved to fiddle with a flowers—a few days old and browning—that was sitting on a table in the path of sunlight. She fingered the petals, careful not to brush one off the stem. “How about you?”

“Buried somewhere wild and green.”

Iris smiled. “Basically a place the complete opposite of Krait?”

“Yes. You’re right, we’ve overpaid Krait in terms of our time, it would be silly to return after death, almost nihilistic—like whatever you do, you’ll always return to your hell in the end.”

“That’s more like it. You’re starting to come over to my side, Rey.”

“I was always on your side.” It wasn’t meant as an insult, but Iris felt the bite of that statement despite Rey’s intention.

Iris winced briefly and continued brushing her hands against the delicate flowers, bright tropical flowers without any thorns—entirely defenseless and, in Iris’ eyes, profane for reasons she had no desire to interrogate. They’re so much less beautiful without thorns, she thought. “It’s funny, I talk big about putting Krait aside, but after you asked me if I wanted to be buried in the family plot, I understood that I could find that place with no trouble. Were I dropped on Krait right now, I think I could tell direction by its constellations. So much for forgetting.” Iris rubbed her face as if she were using a towel to wash her face clear of accumulated grime.

“This is too morbid,” she said. “You have work that needs done, unfortunately. And I imagine Astraea will want you functioning for that, so maybe we should stop here.” Iris shifted to gaze at the face of an antique sitting in the corner of the room, its steady tick overwhelmed by the din of crashing waves. “It’s early still early. We can get together again at night. There’s a lot of catching up to do, and I’m eager to do it.”

“Later would be nice.” Rey imagined Iris’ hands on her back once more. The Fyurian’s massage always created a wonderful sensation of peacefulness, one infused with nostalgia, and Rey wondered if it would be odd to ask her to do it another time. She got up from the sofa and the thought dissipated. There were matters of state for her to deal with. “Back to work.”

“Back to work,” Iris echoed. “Oh, and you can just ignore me in the background. I mean, I am going to have to be there, but we can pretend I’m not.”

“We’re sisters, and furthermore allies. There’s no reason for me to ignore you.”

“Just keep it in mind. Seeing me has already been stressful enough for both of us, I can understand that. I don’t expect you to recover so quickly, nor do I think you should.”

Rey groaned softly in acknowledgement, but started off toward the adjoining doorway. She poked her out and saw only a harried cleaner with a stack of fresh linens in his hands. Astraea was nowhere she could see.

“The Lady is probably in our office,” Iris said as she came up slowly from behind Rey.

“The same one we met in?”

“That’s right. It’s a curious habit, but she likes the view and says the fountain adds quite a bit to the ambience—a nice change of pace from the motion of waves. A great deal of empty space to be alone in, though. Then again, Astraea so rarely gets to be truly alone. Do you want me to lead you, or do you remember the way?”

“Please, go ahead; this place is too massive to have make a mental map of it in a day

Iris chuckled. “If you think it’s hard to navigate this place, then imagine how hard it is to guard.”

Astraea had her legs in the lotus position, hands held out, elbows set on her thighs. The floor fell down a few feet below her as she hovered above it. The home heaved methodically in her attentive conscious. She had to force herself not to tune into the conversation taking place on the first floor. How could she have missed the connection between Rey and her sister’s top agent? And what wild coincidence! Though in that spiritual state, she knew better than to believe in coincidence. No, this was evidence of a ripple, a ripple in the fate of the galaxy, the kind that only shows itself before an event of colossal impact…

Or maybe it was just dumb luck. Who knows for sure? She’d seen Gareth’s face in a piece of burnt bread several years ago, and so far that hadn’t turned out to be anything other than a day’s excitement.

The quiet chatter subsided, was replaced by movement on the lower level, then to the stairs: they were coming up to her. Astraea blinked her eyes open, retina reacting harshly to the lack of darkness, and sunk down to solid ground, robes splaying out as she did so. A knock came on the door a second later. She bid them to enter. Iris came in first, Rey after her. Astraea frowned when she her new friend’s puffy, vaguely red eyes. Iris had a look of guilt that mired her usual lively face.

“Is everything well?” Astraea asked.

“For the moment,” Rey responded. “I’m well enough to deliver the message, at least.”

“I was asking about the alliance, actually, but I’m glad to hear that.” Astraea found some solace in the lack of hostility between the two. She knew how messy reunions could become when the climate was right for them to.

“It’s good news,” Rey spurted out.

“Stupendous! Because good news only has one meaning in this situation, doesn’t it?”

“Ah, yes. Crap, spoiled the suspense, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine. I don’t like it when there’s too much suspense,” Astraea said, moving over to embrace Rey. “Now, bring it in.”

“Sure—wow that is firm hug.”

“I put all my strength into each of my hugs,” she said, her chin nuzzled against Rey. “I dislocated a guy’s arm once, but my technique has improved since.”

“Good to hear,” Rey replied faintly, unable to talk any louder due to a lack of oxygen. Finally, Astraea let her out of her arms.

The (constitutional) Monarch of Fyur had a look on her face as bright as the coast village Sonic’s group had visited—as bright as a flash of lightning. “We should celebrate!” she exclaimed. “I’m sure I could convince the chef to scrounge up some ice-cream. Oh! Or Sorbet. How do you feel about Sorbet?”

“Um, actually, and I mean no offense by this, but Iris and I already have plans.”

Astraea’s pupils dilated and she raised her eyebrows in comprehension. “Ah, yes. That does make sense. Sorbet is an acquired taste to some. Go forth, then,” she said and added mirthfully, “but you haven’t gotten off the cuff yet, we’ll have something more formal soon.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.” She made the gesture, but accidentally made an ‘X’ instead of a proper cross. She squinted her eyes and gave it another try, looking quite excited when she’d gotten it right.

Iris nodded her head towards Astraea. “We’ll take our leave now.”

“You don’t have to ask permission,” she replied gently, her storm-colored eyes revealing a guilt for the wall created by her position. “You have a better case for Rey’s time than I do, so go and enjoy that time. But I am entrusting our newest ally to you, so I’d be remiss if I didn’t tell you to keep a cautious guard of her. Though I know that’s not something you need to be told, nor a protection your sibling necessarily needs.”

“I’ll see you soon,” Rey assured her host before heading for the outside with Iris.

Astraea watched them go, remembering the dry line of tears on Rey’s face, and thinking of arguments she once had with her own siblings. She hoped the pair would be kind with eachother; for a sister’s rejection can become a gaping wound that time, and only time can heal. Astraea’s own wound was long healed, but she hoped Rey wouldn’t be burdened with another.

Iris and Rey’s footfalls were quiet on the rich soil surrounding the mansion. It was a huge lawn, just as the mansion was, unlike its mortar cousin only in the wild way in grew; seemingly uncultivated as one went further from the epicenter. Yet despite all that free growth, there was hardly a sign of other animal life in the grass, not a mark or depression to be seen. Except for their figures going across it—and a rare pollinator here and there—the green was unperturbed. Wind served as the primary driver of movement, and it felt to Rey as if that had been the case for a long time. Maybe it was because of the proximity of the ocean, or the isolated height, but whatever it was that made the place so stolid, she had an instinct it wasn’t unnatural.

“Must be strange working out here,” Rey asked more than said.

“A bit. But it assuradely isn’t home, bless the Force.”

“You don’t call it home?”

“I have but one home,” Iris grinned, “and I abandoned it, remember?”

Rey dropped her gaze to her sandals. “We don’t have to get into that again.”

“It’s how I feel about this place, truthfully. I wasn’t making some snide remark, I wouldn’t do that to do. But, yes, this is a very different environment then I’ve been used to.”

Rey took this in silently, considering the hidden sentiment behind it, and behind Iris’ behavior so far. There was no ill will, however they were both adjusting to the information that the other was alive and with them now. Rey didn’t have to use the Force to feel the confusion and shame underneath her sister’s perceived reticence. To the sensitive soul, Iris was leaking turmoil.

“Do you get to leave often?” Rey asked.

“I go on outside operations pretty regularly. ‘Security officer’ is a misleading title. We don’t always guard this planet. The other colonies need protection as well, and Kyla or I may be called in to handle an arising situation. That said, most of my time is spent around this plot of land. But I assume you know about that, Rey, with how much time you must have to spend on that behemoth ship of yours. Can’t see a great deal out in lightspeed.”

Rey shrugged. “We get on solid ground enough for my needs. I mean, we’re here now, so clearly I’m not cramped up in those metal walls all the time. I’ll take it over the alternative, you can be confident in that.”

Rey stopped as they came to a small dirt plot filled with the sturdy vehicle she rode in on the first night. “We’re going off the estate?” she asked.

“I thought we might as well. The number of options we’d have around here is limited.”

“I don’t need to go anywhere fancy. I’d be fine if we just stargazed or sat next to each other. Activity isn’t what I’m looking for, only your conversation.”

“Hmm. Stargazing, huh,” Iris said and then tilted her head up to the sky. “We would have to wait a little bit for that, though it does sound appealing.”

“It’s just an example. I am, of course, open to a lot of options here.”

“I like the stargazing idea, really, it’s… appropriate, considering. I know a good place downtown with nice tables outside. That kinda combines our ideas.”

Rey said she had no objections, so they got into Iris’ off-roader and started to drive to the main city. Once they had gotten on a main road, the city came into view. A few taller buildings jutted out from the sea of lights, glowing a pale white against the golden sunlight, and the air carried with it an undercurrent activity. Rey had seen the vista in the distance when they came out of the Beyblade; it was impressive now, and even more so now that she got a better look at it. Buildings weren’t clumped like in most of the other metropolitan centers she’d seen (which, aside from the tech market, was few), but at a respectable distance from one another. The Fyurians seemed to be genteels with a careful regard for personal space.

Tall grass painted the area away from the road a pastel green, the blades swaying as wind mingled within them. Iris was calm behind the wheel, clearly used to the drive. She and Rey stayed in their own worlds, letting straight road sink away and the city loom larger ahead.

Iris parked them in a spot by a governmental building, assuring Rey that the serial number on her vehicle gave them the privilege of parking there. “A perk of the job,” she said. They walked the rest of the way to their destination, a coffee/confectionary store with an outdoor cafe and a small menu containing various light meals. The maitre d’ called Iris by her name as she led them to their table in the outside section. Artisanal candles had been put out, just lit from the looks of them.

“Nice place,” commented Rey as she settled into the woven metal chair.

“Yeah, I go here from time to time… With some frequency, actually. Fyur has wonderful sweets across the board, but this cafe stands out among them to me. And as you saw, the staff knows me now, so that’s a hard benefit to part with.”

“It’s good to feel like you belong—and a perfectly understandable thing to return for.”

“I wouldn’t say I ‘belong’ at this cafe, but there may be something to feeling your patronage is appreciated. That’s an interesting negative of this city; it’s populated enough for restaurants to get more impersonal, lose the intimacy that villages or towns have.”

“Crazy that a city with that problem could exist within this galaxy,” Rey said, the side of her face resting indolently in her propped-up hand. “It goes to show how much people can thrive when they’re removed from the fighting.”

“You can say that again,” responded Iris before they put their drink order in: two coffees, one with sugar and one with a splash of milk. “I see these people walking around, laughing with such freedom, such ease, and it shocks me how lucky they don’t even know they are. I go to the battlefield often enough that I never become that comfortable, not even when I’m here like this. But what’s most amazing about this place is that its children won’t ever know anything other than their halcyon peace… or they will, if Astraea’s dream is fulfilled.”

There was a candle on the table surrounded by a glass oval, and Rey watched the flame leap around as Iris talked. “Is fulfilling that dream something you’ve become invested in?”

“If you’re asking if my being here is motivated by more than a paycheck, then yes. And let me make perfectly clear, Astraea didn’t set me up to tell you that. She wouldn’t have really had a chance considering I didn’t know I was going to get to see you again until today, but still.”

“She does have a certain charisma about her, your Lady. She told me that you were a mercenary before you joined up with her government, said you made an unforgettable impression. I can imagine the chemistry that must have sparked.”

Iris blushed. “Your making it sound a lot weirder than it was. I did good work on a job, that’s all. I suppose we do suit each other in some regards; compliment each other, one might say.”

“You’ve likely spent almost as much time living around her as you did me,” Rey said flatly. Her eyes returned their attention to the dancing flame, the shiny membranes of glass faintly reflecting it as orange strips, winnowing in their depths. Iris could find no appropriate response, so instead she opted to divert the path of their conversation, skirting the elephant in the room with accustomed ease.

“My mercenary days were short. In retrospect I can see that as a good thing. That line of work will either get you killed or make you into a true killer if you stick with it too long. I found I had an affinity of sorts to combat, however, so that’s the direction I drifted. Since some of your allies once walked the same path, I bet you’re aware of how these things go. And despite the fact I’m still kinda fighting for money, I also carry out my duties with a clear purpose in the back of my mind. In that way, I think the Fyurian government has more reasons to work together with you outside of simply sharing a common enemy.”

“We’ve already bought in, so there’s no need to keep selling,” joked Rey.

“Sorry. I only talk about Fyur so much because I believe in it. How about you, though? You basically hold the same position in the Rebellion as Astraea does in our government—not literally, I know, but in spirit the roles seem to be of equal importance.”

It was Rey’s turn to blush, the red splotches standing out starker on the comparative pale of her skin. “I’m really a glorified grunt. I haven’t even been directly connected to the organization for too many months. I’m no veteran of the cause.”

“The cause, as you say, may not be the same one each time. It seems to me the Rebellion has existed whenever a fascist power arises for it to fight. So in that way, you could call yourself a veteran of this current iteration of the Rebellion.”

“I wonder… However, there are people who have fought this battle before, who’ve already been through it. In fact, I’ve heard the infrastructure for the Rebellion came into existence within a few weeks after the last Republic was destroyed. All those previous Rebels were practically waiting for some psychos to try and install another Empire.”

“And they won the last time, so we have somewhat of an upper hand now. I mean, they have experience and the knowledge of what works, don’t they?”

“They know the techniques: guerilla warfare, breaking and stealing from supply lines, keeping your bases in scanner dead zones. It’s made the battle easier for us foot soldiers, having elders who can guide their younger allies. Still, I’m not brimming with confidence. Kylo Ren is a frightening opponent, one I’ve seen in combat. And we can assume he’s already gotten stronger. His army of stormtroopers is only there to keep the miners and villagers in line; if he wanted to, he’d conquer the galaxy as a sole harbinger. He’s who we should be concerned about, him and however remaining Knights he has under his control.”

The waiter put a spread of plates on their table, and both sisters went quiet for a moment as they admired the sweets. It felt odd to be discussing strategy over elaborate cakes and tarts filled with rich custard. But in truth, such behavior is of a long tradition across time and space—some of the best strategists in existence have sworn on the benefits high-sugar food can have on brain functioning for the short term, and many splendid tacticians have lost their entire set of teeth to cavities before their twentieth birthdays—but Rey and Iris had no way of knowing that.

Iris took a bite of a double chocolate eclair (in this case, meaning that the filling is chocolate as well), and gave a polite moan of satisfaction. “The knights won’t be a problem,” Iris scoffed. “They showed their strength twice already, and you Rebels beat the crap out of them without any help from us. And anyway, our intelligence has reason to believe that their ranks are down to almost nothing. The Knights were never very large. A loss of two is quite a blow to them.”

She sampled a nearby custard with her fork. “Now, concerning Ren, he may pose a threat, but keep in mind that Kyla and I have our positions for other reasons besides being competent military commanders; we can handle ourselves in a fight. If you’re thinking in the number of skilled combatants—I don’t count those idiotic stormtroopers as skilled combatants, mind you—then the First Order is at a serious disadvantage.”

Rey prodded her cake with her own fork, swirling the frosting around it like a structurally unstable spaghetti noodle. “And what if we do win? What do we do next?”

“How do we stop another First Order from being created in the future, you mean?”

“Exactly. The Republic failed after it was reestablished. Why should we do any better?”

“Our team has a plan,” Iris said cryptically. “We’ll share it with you once things settle down a little bit, when the First Order’s been pushed back enough to give breathing room. That’ll come sooner rather than later, I imagine.”

“You have so much confidence, Iris. That’s something I wish I shared. I’m always doubting myself, my abilities. Even as they stand on their last legs, the First Order frightens me. Their capacity for violence is seemingly unlimited. Kylo’s been trained; I haven’t. What makes me think that I can best him? What, because I’m ‘Special’? Because I have ‘an affinity for the Force’? Who decided that? Because it certainly wasn’t me.”

Iris frowned over the tart, not for the flavor—that she found impeccable—but for the way Rey choose to talk about herself. “It’s a reward, Rey. At least, that’s how I see it. I told you that we’ve served our years in misery; don’t we deserve time in the sun, as well? Skill is something fundamentally earned, and you can’t get a control over power without a degree of skill. Take the gifts the universe gives you without a second thought, that’s my policy, and I remind myself of it whenever doubt begins to cloud my mind. You were fighting even before you became a Jedi. The talent you have is a gift, but the skill you possess was created through your own efforts. Accept the gift, accept yourself—life gives us too little time to do anything else.” Iris picked nervously at the sliver of collarbone left exposed by the neck of her shirt. Some part part of her relaxed whenever she felt the hard bone under her flesh. It something solid to anchor on to, as well as a constant reminder of her mortality.

“There’s something else I think I should tell you,” she went on, the words coming out despite a clear reluctance. “I have another reason for being confident against Kylo. You won’t be the only Force user fighting against him.”

“Astraea, you mean?” Rey offered. “I know about that. She told me during the first meeting. But she gave us the impression that her abilities aren’t oriented for combat. Do you have a reason to believe otherwise?”

Iris bit her bottom lip. “I’m saying that Kyla and I will be assisting you. We have our own range of… abilities, to borrow your term. I didn’t tell you earlier because I thought it’d be too much to take in. Now we’ve been together for a few hours, though—hopefully enough to get you used to me again, allow us to run through the carousel of emotions.”

Rey had been chewing on a piece of cake, and swallowed it audibly as Iris told her piece. “Oh,” she said once the spongy material had passed to her stomach. It fell there like a sack of rocks. Apparently it’s possible for speech to give you indigestion, who would’ve thunk? Rey rubbed the crumbs from the edges of her mouth. “Abilities, as in Force abilities?”

Iris nodded. “We would never claim to be Jedi, but the positions we hold do correspond to our ability. I hope that puts to rest any ideas you may have been entertaining about Kyla’s role in the organization, that there might be a bit of nepotism as play

“I have too many worries to toy around with speculations about nepotism.” Rey glanced around at the Fyurians enjoying their food, wishing she could have a placid, untroubled meal like they were. “You aren’t Sith are you, Iris? Because I really couldn’t take that right now.”

A part in the back of Iris’ mind tried to get her to guffaw at the notion, but she quickly snuffed that out. “No, we don’t operate like that.”

Rey leaned back, eyes closed as she tried to find a place for this new knowledge within her understanding of the Force and Jedi, and was having very little luck. She looked to the darkening sky to calm herself, straining her ears to the distant sound of humming insects, their individual songs building on, and harmonizing with one another. Rey tried to imagine the far off swarm making that noise; a species without advanced fluid intelligence, yet able to work in such unity. “When did you know?”

“It wasn’t until I came to work here,” Iris responded. “I was taught, not an immaculate user like yourself. Astraea recognized a latent potential in me, and so she made it her mission to draw that out. It’s nothing crazy—I’m not interrogating the secrets of the universe or reading every mind that comes my way, but in fights it can give me a palpable edge. I’m telling you this not because it’s practical for forming a battle strategy, or to show that I have powers like yours, but because I don’t want to keep secrets from you—and this would be a pretty huge secret.”

Rey took a few swift bites of another tart, shoveling the custard and sugary filling down to give her overwhelmed self a sweet thing to cut hrt inner conflict like water cuts liquor, or how you might suspend a foul medicine in syrup. “I’m not upset,” Rey said as she wiped the corners of her mouth with a frilled table-napkin, “though I am very confused. Do you think this relates to our upbringing? Could it be random chance?”

“I would chalk it down to random chance,” Iris said, dismissing the thread of idea. “What unique factor of Jakku could cause both of us to be able to learn the Force?”

“Sand?” Rey offered, half-joking. “According to legend, most of the notable Jedi were born in desert biomes.”

“Yeah, but Yoda was born in a swamp, and he was like the greatest Jedi to ever exist. Not to mention the others who were able to leave Jakku haven’t developed Force powers as far as we know. And because of the nature of Force powers, at least one of us probably would.”

Rey considered this. “True. Maybe sand is only a Skywalker thing, which rules us out for that.” Rey worked at the idea as she worked on the spread of deserts. Force users are uncommon in any of the post-Jedi-Order generations, she thought. For us to have been raised together is a small chance indeed. Proximity might have played a role—it did with Porg and I. Or else fate has more in store for us. What a fickle property of nature it is, fate, so abstruse in its meanings. Can’t an omen be clear in advance for once?

“It doesn’t really matter,” Rey declared suddenly. “Forgive me for saying something so silly. Finding a common element wouldn’t give us the secret to learning the Force. That was probably lost with my master, or else is hidden in those dusty tomes he kept with him.”

Iris furrowed her brows at this. “Should I know what that last part means?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well, you’re right on it not mattering, not as it relates to the two us as siblings. I don’t see our bond as existing for the sake of an unknowable entity, as the unfolding of millenium of shadowy planning in the dark reaches of the universe. We are who we’ve become; our relationship is there because we made it.” Iris scooted closer to the table, closer to Rey on the other side. “Years and years ago I betrayed that bond. I left you without saying a single goodbye, didn’t even try to take you with me. Escaping Jakku was the singular focus I had, believing that by leaving, all the universe would be mine to experience, and with it my pain would vanish as well. Only one of those beliefs turned out to have any foundation, and you can guess which one it was.

“Places alone don’t create suffering. It was hard to live on Jakku, but it was so because it diseased the family, made it necrotic. Alone I was free of the disease, yet free in the way a finger may be free of its body.” She placed a hand over Rey’s, cupped it with her warmth. “Now we’re both free, and I want to do what I can to… ease the consequences of my transgressions. Do you think you would allow that, Rey?”

The bright blue of the sky was turning a purple-red, and some of the other patrons in the cafe had stopped their own conversations to catch a snippet of the scene unfolding near them. Rey and Iris were aware, and unconcerned.

“I mean it when I give someone my forgiveness,” Rey said, her breath almost overwhelming her quiet words. “Grudges are for Sith.”

“You’re too kind to me,” Iris said. “It’s amazing how much you’ve preserved your good will through everything. If nothing else, that makes you worthy of the Jedi title.”

Pinpricks of stars were revealing their light as day began to cozy under its inky black covers. The hum of insects was increasing in furor, and as the two sisters finished their vast array of deserts, more dots of orange-ish light filled the sky. At first, it seemed new suns were being born right before their eyes. But night hadn’t come completely (you could say day had its reading glasses on and was flipping through a couple chapters before properly going to sleep), so Rey could make out the shapes of these new sources of light: they were like two misshapen ‘B’s’ put together over a fat column in the middle, and had thinner spikes coming from the top. They were insects, Rey realized, the same ones she heard while talking to Iris.

“What are those?” she gawked.

“They’re kinda the reason I brought you out here,” Iris replied with a coy smile. “Locally we call them ‘hearth souls’. They’re a bioluminant type of insect that pass by certain areas at night on their quest for fruit. This restaurant is in one of the districts they fly above. Your stargazing idea made me think of it.”

The patrons who before had been watching Rey and Iris, were now taken by the glowing flight. Not even the wind blew. It was as if Fyur itself had stilled to give those bright insects peace to go about their business, accommodating most graciously to their whims. It was a dreamlike vision, alive with color and life. Just as their name implied, the hearth souls could have been mistaken for a clump of spirits making their way out from some horrific disaster and to whatever awaited them at the other side.

“I think everyone should get a chance to see this at some time in their lives,” Iris told the stunned Rebel. “It’s almost enough to make up for everything time puts you through, a brief moment like this that flies away with your heart. I get to see it almost every week, and the feeling is the same each time.”

Rey listened to Iris as best she was able, truly wanting to hear what she had to say, but she was already far away by then, torn from the mundane to catch that glimpse into a beauty spectacularly alive. This was no painting or carefully crafted sculpture, no tapestry woven from generations of skilled hands, it was spontaneous and brief. The insects were doing nothing special, only traveling; akin to walking for your average bipedal. Their bioluminescence merely a means of conveying to predators the toxins innate to their blood. Despite this, though, these tiny elements had come together to create an image of near divine majesty, or at least majestic enough to reaffirm Rey’s more religious, insticual belief in the Force.

Within a few seconds more, the so-called hearth souls departed from Rey’s view, pressing on in their quest for food. Cups clinked again, along with utensils, and the people in the cafe resumed their usual activities, most of them having seen the display enough times to recover themselves decently well after it ends. Fyur breathed once more.

“If my job has one last benefit to it,” Iris said, “location would certainly be it.”

Rey re-tuned herself to the world below. It felt much larger now, each detail significant in the unique role it filled. “You’re making me jealous,” she said when the effect had worn off.

“Yeah, but we don’t get any real social recognition from the wider populace like you Rebels do, so it’s kind of a tradeoff in that regard.”

“I’d take wild spectacle over meddling fame any day.”

Iris laughed. “Me too.”

Tables were thinning out by that point, and the pairs’ food had long since been cleaned up. Only splotches of chocolate and the odd cake crumb remained. Stars still shone in there places, bold constellations with alien shapes, as well as one that—if you squinted—looked remarkably like a pug dog. Iris sipped down the last drops of her decaf coffee, the cup resounding with a resounding plink as she set it down on the saucer.

“What do you think? Time for us to return, get a little shut eye?”

Rey pushed some of those errant crumbs around with her fork. “We can’t very well have a sleepover or anything,” she commented. “We’ve already been skirting our work long enough as it stands.”

Iris bobbed her head gravely. “Being an adult is strange,” she declared… or somewhat bemoaned.

“In its own way, yes. Though I doubt there’s any escape from at least some strangeness, no matter what age you are.”

“No matter,” Iris said, standing up. “I’ll keep my childlike wonderment as long as I live.”

“I doubt that,” Rey joked as she slid out of her own seat. “In fact, I don’t think you ever had a trait even resembling that, Ms. Straightlaced.”

“Maybe externally,” Iris scoffed, “but internally I’m just a bundle of fun.”

“Says the woman with flag-pole posture. Sure. We were both raised on technical manuals and primarily dry journal entries; you’re not fooling anyone.”

The two women headed out of the cafe and started ambling their way back to their vehicle, passing by the few people still moving along the street (the nightlife on Fyur is unfortunately dull; people tire out too easily from the day’s sun to get sweaty on the dancefloor—also, EDM hadn’t been invented yet).

A mischievous smile had spread its way across Iris’ face. “Oh? So you think I never got my hands on those other materials you were so fond of reading? The ones stored on that little blue disk?”

Rey first blanched, then quickly turned a bright tomato-red. I thought I hid that thing under a tarp in the most remote of the intact data centers; no-one should have been able to access them other than me, she thought. Maybe she means something else? And not… anything involving tentacles. Rey looked at her sister’s sharp, broken-glass smile and threw away that possibility.

She very unsubtly shaded the side of her face turned to Iris with her hand, averting her gaze from those incisive eyes. “Why don’t we keep that to ourselves?” she said, just above a whisper.

A tardy hearth soul flew frantically above them, somewhere deep in its simple mind working on the design for a rudimentary version of an electric alarm clock.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this, it's part of a project I've been working on for a long time and wanted to share. There may have been some formatting issues, so don't hesitate to point them out to me. And finally, I you're enjoying this, tell me! I've got quite a few already chapters already editing that are currently sitting around collecting digital dust.


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